On the evening of June 30, 1983, I sat alone atop a hill overlooking a magical setting. Below me, Ohio's largest hospital held in its embrace every kind of drama.

   Today, October 17, 2021, I re-read lines from David Whyte's poem, "Self Portrait" including these:

…I want to know
if you know
how to melt into that fierce heat of living
falling toward
the center of your longing.

   In the next twenty-four hours in that complex of buildings fifteen babies would cry their way into "the fierce heat of living." Other tears would attend three who would leave life.

   Hundreds of thousands depended on the competence & compassion of seven thousand caregivers including over a thousand doctors. 

   Among the eight hundred patients occupying 1000-bed Riverside Methodist Hospital would be some that, on this day, would hear harsh news about the cancer or heart disease that was stealing their lives. Others would experience the profound joy of childbirth or news of impending recovery.  

   All of this in a place where I was still a stranger. The next morning, I would, at thirty-nine, enter the hospital as its new President & CEO. Winning this opportunity had been "the center of my longing" for nearly a year. 

   Barely able to contain my joy, my mind raced with plans. My heart was flooded with dreams for what I might do to guide this place to greatness. 

   Obviously, no hospital is the story of one person. So this essay is simply one person's take on the life of a massive & beautiful organization as it was starting in 1983. 

   In the dusk, the lit windows of Riverside took on definition. Behind every one was a story, an opportunity, a tragedy, a blessing. 

   At thirty-nine, the future was my friend. The incredible triumphs & startling tragedies (including murders, suicides & a hostage taking) of the next year alone were beyond anyone's imagining. 

 -Erie Chapman

Later, this week, Part II 

Photo by David Lucas, 1991