Leo Schelbert - Westward

… and in Montreux. (1955)

But stop! “I almost forgot to mention a very important episode in my life: In 1958 I passed my summer vacation with my parents in Riffelalp in Wallis. There I climbed the Matterhorn. This was not such a great physical accomplishment, as the weather was ideal, I had a good guide, and had no fear of heights. But to stand on top of the world, on a narrow pathway of snow looking down to Italy on one side and Switzerland on the other was a thrilling experience that I shall never forget.”

“I will never forget July 28, 1958. Together with a guide I climbed the Matterhorn.”

And then Margot adds, “on my gravestone, I should like to have three things written: First, ‘she once viewed the world from the top of the Matterhorn; secondly, at the age of eighty, she learned to use the computer; and thirdly, she overcame her shyness and learned to share the personality of her father with the public.’” And then she changes her mind and says, “but I am not going to have a gravestone. When I die, I shall go back to my Alma mater, New York Medical College. In dissecting my shell, some medical students will be able to spend a year learning their anatomy. I have specified this in my will and I find comfort in thinking that the full course of my life will come to a close in this final way.”

In 1960 Margot opened her private practice in Obstetrics and Gynecology. It was a time of many changes in medicine such as antibiotics, birth control pills, and air conditioning in the operating room. Her first patient was a nurse that knew Margot from her hospital internship. Other nurses and female hospital attendants, as well as their female friends and family members, became the base of her fledgling practice. The new wave of feminism at that time also brought women to her door, saying “we feel more comfortable with a woman physician, she understands us better than a man.” Young women who previously never went for physical examinations before becoming pregnant were now coming for prescription of birth control pills. Also, abortions became legal to perform in New York so gynecologists were able to help their own patients rather than send them to Geneva or Puerto Rico and one saw less infections resulting from improperly performed illegal abortions. “I averaged about two deliveries a week and one or two major operations. I enjoyed my profession and my patients. Besides the physical examination I felt it equally important to talk with the patient and to give her a chance to ask questions.”

Then Margot switches to another chapter in her life story, “and a very important one.” In 1939, her future husband, Dr. Gustav Durrer, a dentist from Luzern, was attending advanced dental courses in America when the war broke out and and he could not return to Switzerland. While working in a dental clinic in New York, he received an “invitation” to serve in the American Army. He obtained his American citizenship and after the war established a practice in New York City.

When Margot returned home after her residency in St. Gallen, she accompanied her stepmother for an appointment with this “wonderful new dentist” that her parents had been praising. “Gusti Durrer really looked so handsome in his white dental jacket and generous smile, but I soon sized him up as the happy bachelor approaching the 40’s and thinking, why marry one when I can have many women around? But I really fell for him. Our friendship grew slowly. He invited me to the Swiss Society Ball, and for theatre or concerts. He was a loving and charming escort, but never gave a hint of wanting to share our lives together. Then once, after seven years of dating, he casually remarked: ‘Why don’t we go on vacation once together?’ For me it was quite clear: not without a ring on my finger. That was a cutting moment of decision for the engrained bachelor. Plans were made. We went to Tiffany to buy that wedding ring, but the salesperson was so busy with another customer that Gusti lost his patience; we walked out and went to a friend of his who was a goldsmith. Finally we were married and started a happy vacation that lasted a lifetime.”

Marriage to Gustav Durrer was a long, happy and fascinating chapter in Margot’s life. “We married late in life but were able to share forty-one years of our lives together. He was a very dear person, treating the cleaning lady the same as he would an ambassador to the UN. He always respected my work and was very understanding when I was called away at night or in the middle of dinner because of an emergency or the delivery of a baby. In exchange, I painfully typed out his lectures and papers on my old typewriter in those pre-word processor days. I never wanted to have children, but yes, I thoroughly enjoyed delivering a healthy screaming baby and handing it over to its mother for care. Although we each had our own profession, Gusti and I were partners – a team. To share an active life together was the greatest gift that I could ever have had.”

And then she smiles: “I never looked very much in the mirror. However, shortly after we were married, Gusti said to me: ‘What are we going to do about our hair?’ I looked him straight in the eye and said: ‘We are not going to do anything about our hair.’ Later, I compromised by getting a wig but this, of course, was never worn.”

Dr. Margot Ammann maintained an active practice and retired at age 71. A few years later, in his eighties, her husband also retired. Suddenly he developed kidney failure, requiring dialysis. “This is a tedious process three times a week, lasting three to four hours and leaving one considerably weakened. Fortunately I had the strength to help him and the time to give him companionship. It was a fulltime project for both of us. His diet was very strict and required careful control. I would accompany him when he went on the wheelchair to and from the hospital and read to him while he had to lie for hours during the treatments. He was always so thankful and how often he would say to me, ‘How would I have done all of this without you, Margot?’ It was somehow bittersweet.

“In October 2001, two weeks after the attacks on the Twin Towers, Gus died. This was a very difficult time – clouds were over the city and I was enveloped in my own cloud of sorrow. The quick step from life to death was a shock. Suddenly I was alone. However he is always with me. At night before I go to sleep I look at his photograph smiling at me, say goodnight and ask how could I have been so lucky to share my life and love with him. In spite of the great sorrow, I was thankful that he could die in peace and dignity. His heart was slowly failing and intense treatments would have been necessary to extend his life somewhat. It was a hard decision for me to tell the doctor to discontinue dialysis. After three days at home he fell into a peaceful sleep. There was nothing more to do. I realized then how thin is the thread upon which our life hangs – even when we think we are so strong.”

Since his death, Margot lives alone. The first time she had to register “widow” as her marital status, she had a shock. But gradually she reinvented herself and soon found that the hours of the day were too short. She found great satisfaction in working as a volunteer for the organization “English in Action”, giving practice in conversation to people for whom English is a second language. With an extra bedroom in her apartment, she was able to welcome family and friends to visit and soon she had what she called “a free bed and breakfast establishment.” Almost every week one or more guests occupied that extra room, with overflow on the living room couch or sleeping bags on the floor. “I could fill a book with the adventures that these guests brought into my life. I was able to finish the many started projects such as translating the Amman family book into English and the album of father’s life and works. Friends and relatives are touchingly concerned about my welfare and although busy with their own lives, always find time to share it with me.”