When Dr. Martin Bernfield died in San Antonio two years ago, his office nurse, Rachel Starr, found herself with $44,000, the savings of 27 years, and nothing to do. But she had an idea. Bernfield had made a professional hobby of treating San Antonio's Negroes, and Mrs. Starr remembered his recurring anger whenever he couldn't get a patient into one of the two-dozen hospital beds available for the city's 25,000 Negroes. Why not, she thought, build and run a hospital for Negroes? As she put "it to herself, it was the "proverbial better mousetrap...
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