He rented the entire first floor of a two-story building in the predominantly-black Dixwell neighborhood. For both office and living space, his rent at 92 Dixwell Avenue was $37 a month. "I proceeded," he said, "not to set the medical world on fire." By Thanksgiving he was two months behind in rent.

He wanted not only to have a practice, but to be a part of the larger, New Haven medical community. If he was going to develop good skills as a diagnostician, he felt it was imperative that he sharpen his knowledge through interaction with the best medical minds available and through extensive patient evaluations.

He had talked to several other black professionals about his prospects of getting admitted to the Yale University Medical Clinic. No black doctor had ever done so. Everyone he talked to said they would never admit him.

He went anyway and spoke to the administrative head of the hospital, who asked my father about his background. On his second visit, he was granted permission to attend as an observer, only.

He went to the clinic five mornings a week and enjoyed it immensely.