 Tonight, Irene Dunn stars in Doctora in Mexico on the Cavalcade of America sponsored by the DuPont Company, maker of better things for better living through chemistry. Better things that include DuPont ray on yarn, DuPont paints and varnishes, neoprene, DuPont synthetic rubber. The DuPont Cavalcade presents Irene Dunn as Dr. Catherine Neal-Dale in the true story of a woman's adventure, Doctora in Mexico. They called me the Doctora. In Spanish that means woman doctor, not a doctor for females. Oh no. Where I practice it means the cure of ills ranging from tuberculosis through hookworm, love sickness, malnutrition and malaria. For 40 years I've been physician, surgeon and psychiatrist to Mexicans and Mexican Indians. 40 years. Many times I thought of giving it up, going back to the hospital in Philadelphia. There'd be work for me there. I'd be a human being who saved lives, not a foreign devil whose house you couldn't come into. Oh yes, I had it all figured out, but just then an Indian baby would be dying of pneumonia somewhere in the mountains, two days on muleback. No time to think. Or a case of leprosy would break out in the next village. Or, and this happened most often, I just quietly remember that day a long time ago when I made up my mind to be a doctor. It was in South Carolina in 1891, and I was 19 years old. I can still see the three of us. I was sitting in the garden with Papa and my brother George. Well, Katie. Here's Papa. Have you thought about what you'll do after graduation? She'll get married and have babies. That's whatever he's sensible woman does. Now that you've mentioned it, George, seems to me I've seen quite a good deal of a certain young fellow lately. What's his name? His name Papa's Jim Dale, and you know it perfectly well. I understand he's going to be a missionary. Now tell me, sir, do missionaries marry? Oh, some of them do. We've had quite a few right in the family. Then Katie falls in love with him, and he falls in love with Katie. George? Yes, Katie. If you and Papa are all through living my life for me, there's something I'd like to say. By all means, Katie. By all means. Papa, George, I want to be a doctor. Of what? A doctor. Like you, Papa, and you, George. A female doctor? Good grief. It's unbelievable, by your wise. There's never been one before. Of course there has. There's Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell and her sister, Dr. Emily. You mean to tell me you've never heard of Dr. Mary Putnam Jacoby? I'm proud to say I have not. Who are their patients? Horses? Oh, Papa, really. This is the 19th century. You sound like we're living back in the dark age. Well, all I know is a woman can be either of two things. A wife and mother, or a dehumanized machine with a career. I'd like to have children, something. Then you can't be a doctor, Katie. And I'd like to be a doctor. Then you can't be a wife and a mother. You must make a choice. You can't be both. Papa, George, I think I'm going to try to be both. But Papa helped me to become a doctor all the same. He knew it was a hard road for a woman, but he knew it was my way. So he saw me through. He sent me to Philadelphia to medical school, and he helped me to get my appointment with the mission board for a post in Mexico. I knew this meant saying goodbye to Jim Dayum. It was a hard decision, but I made it and went on living. And that, I thought, was that. I was assigned to a little town in the interior called Ciudad Del Maís. The city of corn. I'll never forget my first patient there. She was a mestiza, half Mexican, half Indian, and he was very much afraid. You are the doctor? Yes. Would you sit down here, please? No. Stand very well. What's your name? I must tell. Well, that's not exactly necessary. Bueno, no tell. What's your trouble? Where are you sick? Dr. Torres is very hot. Then all of a sudden he's very cold. Hot, cold, hot, cold, Dr. Torres is very sick all over. I see. Tell me, did you do anything for it? Did you take any medicine? Did you go to the herb woman? Oh, the herb woman. What did she say? She'd say, me under spell. And what did she tell you to do about it? Sleep in the sun on wooden boards. Make powder, hot peppers, dried ants, and grasshoppers. Grub on body. This I do, Dr. Torres. I do. And now it's fever-worth. Yes, you're right. I got a fever, all right. Here now. Just hold this under your towel. Oh, no, no, no, no. All right, all right. If you don't like the thermometer, you don't have to hold it. See, I'm putting it away in the drawer. There. No more thermometers. Now, you're not afraid anymore, are you? You must cry. I'm going to help you. Here, now, I want you to swallow this pepper. Here's some water. Is, is magic? No, it's not magic. It's quinine. You've got malaria. Quinine is better in hot pepper and grasshoppers. Yes, very much. And you can tell the herb woman I said so. I thought I wanted to go into competition with her, of course. Now, look, you take six every day. Six. You understand? Don't forget. Gracias, doctor. And if you wish to know my name. No, no, no, no. Don't tell me. Come back in two weeks. Then if you feel you can trust me, then you tell me your name. Two weeks later, just as I sat down to breakfast, there was an arc on the door. It was the same woman. Doctor, he's done your puncture, doctor. Oh, done your puncture. Well, I'm glad to see you again. Come in. How do you feel now? Doctor, if no more sick, is feeling very good. God, please, doctor. Now, here, here, here. Stop tipping my head. Let me look at you. But you look fine. Fever all gone? All gone, doctor. He's very good. Quite mine. He's better than glass hoppers. Doctor, he's got no money in my house. Oh, I'm sorry. He's very poor. I know. Well, wait just a minute. I can't give you much. I don't have much myself. Oh, no. Doctor, I don't understand. Today, I'm strong again. Yes, but you said you need money. No. I go out on the street, beg for some tacos. See, all this money I get for you. Oh, no. Why, I can't. Thank you, doctor. And next week, I bring even more. No, I don't want the money, Donia Panza. No, no. No, thank you, Donia Panza. Oh, no, that's very touching. I'm happy to have made you well. That's all the pay I want. Doctor, yes. Then let me work in your house. Cook clean. I work hard for you. I am very good cook. Well, I'm sure you are, but I'm where you go. I go and I do everything for you. I even get special charm to keep sickness away from you. Look, daughter. Well, all right, Donia Panza. You can stay. But for the sickness, I'll make my own charm. And that was Donia Panza. After that, whatever, I felt discouraged or hopelessly confused by the strange behavior of Mexican Indians. I look over at Panza sterilizing the forceps at telling a frightened Indian mother not to be afraid. And for some reason, I was always reassured. The first year, I had 800 patients. It was a good beginning, and it was a good life, even though I was very lonely. But things had a way of happening in Mexico. Unexpected things, almost miraculous things. Like that day just before Thanksgiving, when I heard a knock on my door. Come in. Katie. Jim. Jim, Dave. Oh, Katie, I almost didn't believe you'd be here. Well, come in, Jim. However, did you get here? You're the last person. The last person? Well, I never dreamed I'd see you here. No, it wasn't so difficult. Both train in a day and a half on the back of a mule. Frankly, I never thought I'd live through it. Well, why have you come down here to work as a tourist? I have an assignment here. To see you at Adelmaiz. Oh. But that's not why I came, Katie. No? Not the main reason. What is the main reason? Katie, I came down to marry you. Oh, well, sit down, Jim. It's dangerous for a young woman to live alone in a place like this, Katie. It's the middle of nowhere. You need protection. Protection? I hate to think of the things that could happen to you. Please have civilized people. Why, why some I've even seen make me a little nervous. I'm afraid, boy. Oh, that's nonsense, Jim. These so-called half-civilized people, as you call them, treat me with the greatest respect. Yes, but the men... The men admire my skill as a doctor. As a woman, I don't even exist for them. I can hardly believe that, Katie. Is that why you want to marry me? To protect me? It's one of the reasons. But not the big one. I'm in love with you, Katie. I guess I always have been. Could it make any difference that we said goodbye, Jim? No. I found you can't turn it all on and off that way. I tried, but it didn't work. I know, Jim. And, Katie, I'm a missionary. You're a missionary doctor. If we were married, we could work together. Jim, someday I'll marry you. I know that. I do want children. Who will you marry? An Indian? Well, of course not. You seem to think that all the natives have on their minds is to stand around ogling me. Oh, I didn't mean that, exactly, Katie, but... Well, I tell you, Jim, I'm a doctor to them. Not a woman. Just a minute. Señor Garcia, is anything the matter? Sí, señorita doctora. It's everything the matter. Your daughter? No, he's not my daughter. He's me. Oh, well, come in, please. Señor Dale, señor Garcia. You're humble servant, señor. Oh, if you will excuse me. No, no, please. Señor Dale, you are friend of señorita doctora? A very old friend, sir. Ah, sí, bueno. Then, if it's my wish, you honor me by remaining here. Certainly, sir. Gracias, señor. Well, don't you think I have something to say about this? This is my consulting room, you know? Señorita doctora, after you have listened to the nature of this illness, you will be glad. Well, I may walk up and down as I speak with your permission. Certainly. Ah, gracias. I am very nervous. Señorita doctora, this illness which afflicts me is very strange. I have examined myself. Is the head? No. Is the arm, the legs, the body? No. I ask myself what then is left? The answer, it comes to me, is the heart. Fine. I ask myself, who is this woman who makes me feel young again so I cannot eat, I cannot sleep? And quick, come back the answer. Señorita doctora, I do myself the honor to ask your hand in marriage. Oh, oh, my. My wife, she is long dead. I have found house, many pigs, 11 grandchildren, two cows. All these are lay at your feet. Thank you, senor Garcia, but, but you see, you see. Jim, help me. I understand it all now, Katie. It's just as you said. To them, you're only a doctor, not a woman. They admire you only for your... But, Jim, tell him... Very well, Katie. But I'll do this in my own way. Is that all right? Anyway, but just do it. Senor Garcia. Yes, sir. The senorita doctora has much pleasure in your kind offer. Ah, then you just say it, then. Well, there is, unfortunately, one drawback. The senorita doctora is already engaged to me. Ah, well, is it true, senorita? All right. I guess it is, senor. And I have an idea. We're going to be married right away. After Jim and I were married, we left Sia Darvella in my youth, and opened a mission school in hospital in the town of Rio Verde. Again, there was a usual show of fear and superstition. Again, there were the enemies, the witch doctors and herb women, who resented the thousands of patients that flocked to my office. And this time, I made enemies among the doctors of the town, too. One doctor Lopez paid me a visit in the hospital one day. Can I do something for you, doctor? Yes. Doctora, you can answer for me one question. Yes? Why do you come to Mexico? Why? Because I like it here. Of course. Everyone likes Mexico. But why do you come as a doctor? Because doctors are needed in Mexico. They are not enough. Not enough? Who says this? Well, now, doctor Lopez, you know there are thousands dying every year here who could be saved with proper medical treatment. You say the doctors of Mexico are no good? I didn't say that, doctor. You're putting words into my mouth. I think the doctors here are very good, but there are too few. And you will make so much difference. Doctor Lopez, why are you asking me these questions? Have I interfered with your practice? Have I taken one patient away from you? My patients would not come here. They would have no feet in a doctor whose charge is a loaf of bread or a bag of onions or a dozen eggs. Uh-oh. A practice of medicine is a profession of dignity, senora. How can you expect dignity if... If I give it away free? Exactly. These peons or your patients, they laugh at you behind your back. I've heard them. Senora doctora, I have one thing more to say. Leave Rio Verde. Leave Mexico. Forget these peons. Leave them to their herb women and witch doctors. Go home, senora. Thank you for your advice, doctor Lopez. But I think I will stay. Then be careful. Do not make any mistakes. I will be careful, senora. One mistake, doctora. Just one little, maybe two mistakes. I will be watching. You are listening to Irene Dunn, Dr. Catherine Nealdale in Doctora in Mexico, on the Cavalcade of America, sponsored by the DuPont Company, make her a better thing for better living through chemistry. As we continue with act two of this true adventure of the woman doctor's struggle to bring medical help to the people of Mexico, there is uneasiness in the minds of the peons. Who was this woman with a strange ways? There are threats, misunderstanding, suspicion. Yes, I was uneasy for a long time, but nothing happened. I made no mistake. I was very busy and soon the threats of Dr. Lopez faded from my mind. Then one night while Jim and I slept, Jim, Jim, what was that? Sounded like the window. I'll get up. Well, wait, I'll light a lamp. Oh, like somebody threw a rock. Then now, can you see? Yes, that's better. Let's glance all over the floor. Oh, here. What is it, Jim? It is a rock. Is that paper around it? Yes, it's a note. Somebody's idea of a joke, I guess. What does it say, Jim? Oh, I can't quite make it out. It's in Spanish. Okay, let me see. No, let's wait until morning. It's not important. No, give it to me, Jim. What's nothing, Katie? Oh, please. Leave here at once, or the blood of your family will flow in the streets. You cannot escape. A man has been paid to kill you. Oh, Jim. You're not afraid, Katie? Oh, no. No, of course not. If you are not. It doesn't mean anything. Let's go back to sleep. All right, dear. Jim, what's that you're putting on your pillow? Jim, dear, what are you doing with a gun? Oh, I've had it a long time, Katie. Well, I've never seen it before. Well, there's so much unrest lately, I ordered it from the state. A missionary with a gun. Oh, I'll never have to use it. Jim, you are afraid. Yes, we were both afraid, but we stayed on. We had our work, and Mexico was our home. We did go back to South Carolina that one summer so Papa could see his grandchildren. But we came back, and then we moved to the real Indian country in the hills to a sleepy Aztec village that had a name that sounded to us like Thomas and Charlie. And it was there it happened. A 17-year-old girl in Antonio was sick. Now, Antonio, this is your medicine. Here, the directions are on the bottle. Can you read, Machata? Excuse us, ma'am. Oh, then read it to me. What does it say? Ten drops of water. Right. Ten drops in a glass of water. Ten drops today and ten tomorrow. It will take away your stomachache. Gracias, doctor. I can go to the caballitos now. Oh, no, no, no, no. Not today, I'm afraid. Mary go around. We'll have to wait. Oh, I'm sorry, dear. I know what the fiesta means. Yes, I know, but you're not well, Antonio, and the medicine takes time. Now, run along, come back tomorrow and tell me how you feel. Wonderful, Jim, that's time for a fiesta. I was sure someone would have a baby in the last minute. Well, this time, I don't have to have it without your help, dear. You deserve a little fun. What's in that booth, dear? Give me a look. Oh, it's a cockpit, Katie. Lighting rooms, isn't it? Oh, no, I don't think I like that. Let's go over to the merry-go-round. I haven't... oh, listen. They're dancing over there towards the plaza. Yes, I heard that Lola was going to dance. Well, look, it is Lola. She's dancing on the brim of a sunbrow. Oh, she is one of a kind. Yes, she's the best in the village. Oh, look. Going yourself? Good. I love this. Katie. Put him over there. Someone's calling you. It's Fernando. Antonio's father? Oh, Sra. Dr. Madra. Fernando, what is it? What are you talking about? Dr. Clara, she is a murder assassin. Why you kill my daughter? Well, I saw her only an hour ago. I gave her some medicine. Yes, you gave her some medicine. You gave her poison. And now she is dead. See your meals. Why you kill her? Why? Oh, not that way. See you, Fernando. I gave her good medicine. Ten drops of it couldn't kill anybody. Ten drops. Ten drops. Katie Babari does. She takes all table spoons. She what? Table spoons. She wants to go for yesterday. And so she says, if ten drops be good, whole table spoons be better. Oh, Jim. Okay, it'll be all right. Where is she, Fernando? At your hospital, Senor. And you, Dr. Clara, you are here to share anything yesterday. And my daughter, she is dying. Jim, Jim, come on. Let's hurry. I've got to get there in time. She has hardly any pulse. No heartbeat. No reflexes. Oh. She's dying, Katie. Oh, no, she can't be here. How could it be? She just can't be here. No use, Katie. I have to get you out of here. That crowd. Get me out of here, too. It's dangerous, Katie. Don't forget I'm a doctor. There's only I can do anything. But you washed out her stomach, give it artificial respiration. No use, Katie. You can tell by her reef like this. Still? I can't believe as long as... What's that, Jim? A singing for the dead. You killed her. She's no Libra. Yeah, tell them she isn't dead. I'll keep working with her. But I have no peace. I have no peace. Fernando, you must let me work. This is a little why she needs that. Yeah, Dr. Clara. Who are you? And Dr. Gonzalez. You've come to help. I have come to take over the case, senor. The girl is dying, no? You must be a mere... You've come to take over the case. Yes, senor, as I told her. And this event has been a long time and happening. What do you mean, senor? For many years, this lady masquerades this doctor in my country. Masquerade. But now you are unmasked. You have killed the girl through your ignorance. I have killed no one. She is not dead. And she won't die. Step out of my way, senor. I warn you, senor. And I warn you, senor. This is my patience. She came to me of her own accord and I can save her life. No one is going to stop me from doing my duty as a doctor. As a doctor, senor. When you are through here, if you are lucky, you will be put in jail. If you are unlucky... Well, you've heard that mob out there. They will be here. If you are unlucky as a doctor, I must do what I can for Antonia. You were any kind of a doctor. You'd want to do the same. As you wish, senor. Jim, help me. Yes, Katie. Here, hold back her arms. I'm going to try and force her into her lungs. Just rest in peace now. No, senor. Get it on me. I know. You wanted to go on the merry-go-round. See, Muccio. But you're going to be all right now. Senora, doctor, I... I don't know what to say. Say nothing to me, doctor. But I think you'd better tell the crowd that followed us from the fiesta. See, senor. See, senor. Jim, I was frightened. But it's all right now. Back to the fiesta. Senor Fernando. Yes, senor. Antonia, to rest here for a while. You can take her home, excuse me. Yes, senor. Gracias, doctor. Until now, I don't believe... Believe what? That what they say is true. That you have magic, Muccio, magic now. Not magic, Fernando. Knowledge. I know understand, senor. For hundreds of years, people have studied and learned so that I could save your daughter. Yes, doctor. And after me, others will study and learn much more. More than you'll learn, doctor? Yes, Fernando. All there is to learn. Until someday, no one will have to suffer. Thanks to you, Irene Dunn, and to all members of tonight's Dupont Cavalcade cast. Next week, the Dupont Cavalcade will bring you a tender story of teenage love and springtime. It's the story of a city boy who learned from a country girl how the war can be fought on a farm. Our stars will be two of Hollywood's ablest young actors, Virginia Weidler and Skippy Homeyer. Be with us next week to hear Weapon 4-H, starring Virginia Weidler and Skippy Homeyer on the Dupont Cavalcade of Americans. The music for tonight's Dupont Cavalcade is composed and conducted by Robert Ambruster. Our Cavalcade play was written by Arthur Arons and was based on the book Doctora in Mexico by Alice Floyd, published by G.P. Putnam's son. This is Frank Graham inviting you to listen next Monday night to Weapon 4-H. Starting Virginia Weidler and Skippy Homeyer on the Cavalcade of America, brought to you by the Dupont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. This is the National Broadcasting Company.