PARTY AT DR. J.M. SHANNON'S HOME IN 1907
INCE my accident I have not been able to go much in the outer world because of my inability to walk or ride in the street cars. But I spent an evening in the year 1907 that I think will be worth the telling.
Persons who think and study a great deal need an occasional respite from the drive of daily labor. So thought fourteen of our Oakland doctors who agreed to meet once a month, talk over important cases, read short papers on special topics and enjoy a social time at the banquet table. Dr. J.M. Shannon, my family physician, was included in the membership, and it was his turn to entertain the guests at his home in East Oakland. During my convalescence I had promised to do him a favor any time for his great kindness to me in my long sickness, and my appreciation of his skillful art in my case which made it possible for me to walk, even if on crutches. While I was living on Eleventh street, Dr. Shannon came in one morning to ask for the favor. He unfolded his plan, giving me a list of the members of the club and, because I was so handy with my pen and brush, wanted fourteen place cards for his banquet which was to take place in two weeks at his home. His idea was to have something different. The cards were to represent the different specialties of the physicians, and I was somewhat bewildered with the subjects he gave me. It was a new departure in art for me.
I realized I had to put my best efforts to the test to make a complete success out of a knotty problem. I spent a week in perfecting my sketches. After completing the cards, I called up Dr. Shannon to come and see if all was to his satisfaction. I placed the cards before him on the desk and awaited his approval. It was some minutes before he spoke. He looked up and said quietly, "I guess I'll have these doctors surprised this time," and he enjoyed the anticipation of the fun highly.
"Now you have done this O.K.," he said. "I still have another favor to ask. I want some music and I want you to sing. I will also have some instrumental music so you will not get too tired, for I want music every fifteen minutes between the courses during the dinner. The guests are not to know who the singer is, and I will see that you get there after they have passed into the dining room."
"All right," I said, "the music will also be provided, so you can rest assured that my part of the programme will be carried out to your liking and the pleasure of your guests."
I selected familiar ballads that most men like to hear if they like music at all, and my accompanist, Miss Juliet Maul, prepared the instrumental part, and as she was also a good second soprano, we prepared two duets that always please, and we had a programme worthy of our host. When we arrived at the appointed hour the dinner was; going on and, as we were given the signal, Miss Maul began playing a bright, pleasing, instrumental number, which was such a surprise and also complete departure from the usual arrangement that all conversation ceased until after the number had been given, and then great applause came from the dining room. At the stated time Miss Maul and I sang, Oh, That We Two Were Maying, which was highly appreciated. It was not until I had sung my song, Because I Love You Dear, that they began to wonder who the young lady singer was. Doctor smiled and assured them that they would find out later. He started them to guessing, and he was highly pleased at his joke. After the first number had been played the folding door which had been closed was quietly slid back by a unanimous request. Evidently the music was a genuine surprise and a happy addition to the excellent menu they were enjoying. After having successfully given nine numbers, the dinner came to an end the curiosity had become intense—they wanted to greet the singer, so they started up the song, She's a Jolly Good Fellow, and I joined in the chorus when they had finished. I did not appear. In a few minutes they began, So Say We All of Us, to the tune of America. That was too much for my patriotic nature, so I began and sang alto until I had reached the dining hall and appeared in the doorway with crutch and came before the august presence of our doctors. In one moment they arose with glasses in hand, and one of the older members proposed a toast to Oakland's sweetest singer, Mrs. Blake-Alverson. After I had acknowledged their compliment by my bowed head, one of the doctors handed me a glass, and I responded. I said, "We will now drink to our doctors of Oakland." After they were seated, one of the oldest of the doctors asked me how I accounted for the fact that I retained at the age of seventy-one the voice of a woman of twenty-five. After my satisfactory answers to a number of important questions, they informed me that I had done this evening for their entertainment and great pleasure an act that had never been known in medical history before. Those present voiced the remarks with hearty appreciation and continued applause.
The third surprise of the evening took place after the doctors had left the table and adjourned to the large hall and drawing room. When they had all assembled, the lights were turned on and before them stood in a row like statues their wives, ready to be received, with a smile on their faces, the only visible indication of life in them. They reminded me of Mrs. Jarley's wax figures, standing in a perfect line while the demonstrator illustrates their beauty and natural abilities as "first-class wax figgers." It was too bad the camera missed the expression on the faces of those fourteen men, dressed in full evening attire, and staring at the faces of their wives, it seemed to me, for ten minutes or more. At last one of them broke the spell by quickly stepping over to his wife and calling her by name. He kissed her and said, "I am delighted to see you." The others followed suit. The next half hour was spent in telling how they managed to keep the secret, and to so arrange matters that in the future the ladies would be included in the select gatherings of the medicos. The next hour was spent in listening to some clever speeches and interesting papers, which were very amusing and teemed with jokes and sharp hits of sarcasm. At the close of the reading I was once more called upon to repeat some of the songs that I had sung for them. We all gathered in a spacious music room where for an hour I sang for them their favorite selections, closing with "Home, Sweet Home," in which all who could joined in the chorus. Thus ended one of the most delightful evenings spent in the hospitable home of Dr. and Mrs. Shannon.
The members of the club who were present were: Drs. E.M. Keys, A.H. Pratt, M. Lewis Emerson, A. Liliencrantz, J.M. Shannon, Samuel H. Buteau, J.W. Robertson, E.J. Boyes, O.D. Hamlin, Francis Musser, Herbert N. Rowell, Guy Liliencrantz, I. Frank Lilly and Chas. A. Dukes.
It was in the small hours of the morning before the last auto wound its way down the spacious drive towards Oakland.
