Dr. Myers had been the 4th. born child of Albert Jacob Myers [b. 5/28/1866-2/5/1917, Age 50] and Mary Ella (Wilde) Myers [b. 5/5/1870-11/9/1937, Age 67, Cerebral Hemorrhage]. His parents, grandparents and other family members are buried at Advent Cemetery in Ottawa County Mich. He was the younger brother of Florence Ruth (Myers) Otis and Lillian Esther (Myers) Pear [art historian, husband: Dr. John Pear] of Grosse Point, MI, and Clarence W. Myers of Detroit, MI [06/18/1895-1957, Age 62, WWI Flyer, Skin Cancer, Riverside Cemetery, Sect. HH, Kalamazoo, MI, Auto Engineer, his headstone DOB is fake] and the older brother of Cordelia Gladys (Meyers) Kammermeyer and Margaret Myers. We owe knowing this little bit of information to Lillian Pear, who put it in writing for us. Yet there are gaps in our understanding about what became of his siblings, particularly; Florence, Delia and Margaret.

Albert had been the husband of J. Marjorie (Jackson) Myers [2nd. wife, nurse, 1907?-1932?] who had preceded him in death and the father of their daughter, Marilyn Lee (Myers) Payne of MI [1931-2002]. He had also been the husband of Barbara Ann (Yocum) Myers [3rd. wife, 1915-2007] who he married on 12/31/1937 in Gladwin, MI. He was the father of their two sons, Dr. James William Myers of TX [b. 9/21/1938, MI], who served the US Army as a Lieutenant and Battalion Surgeon stationed in Augsburgh, Germany as of 9/1964. And Dr. David Mac Myers of NJ [b. 9/19/1940, MI], who served the USN as a Lt. Cmdr. stationed in New Brunswick, Maine as of 5/1969. Both sons were graduates of the University of Michigan Medical School in Ann Arbor, MI, before enlisting for duty. Before she retired, his wife Barbara had worked for the Michigan State Legislature in Lansing as a Secretary, a position that is now refered to as a Legislative Asst.

Albert was born on a farm and had lost his father at the age of 20. His sister Lillian, who became an artist and writer, created a small painting of the house that they grew up in. It was depicted as a small, rough, clapboard house with a porch, surrounded by open land. Albert moved to the Detroit area and got a job as a storekeeper, signed up for classes, and married his first wife. It had been a marriage of convenience for him. He lived with his mother-in-law and other family members of his wife in their home. It was a crowded situation. He claimed that his wife "didn't want anything to do with him," so the marriage didn't produce any children. It was his idea to divorce, keep it a secret and pretend it never happened. In polite society, such a thing was dimly viewed. So that's what he did, and Barbara Myers uncovered this past truth by doing some ancestry research. She thought she had married a widower, but as it turned out, she had gotten herself a divorcee. Shocking! After he left his 1st. wife, he attended the University of Michigan Medical School in Ann Arbor, MI. He worked his way through college as a carpender for a construction company in Ann Arbor, and learned new skills as he went along. He also used billiards as a way to help pay for his education expenses. He hussled pool for extra money, sure beat waiting tables or pumping gas. There weren't that many gas stations around back then. Doc was an unpretentious man and as common as an old boot. He originally had set up his medical practice from his home, in Highland Park, MI, where he had lived with his 2nd. wife Marjorie. Then in Potterville, MI, a rural farming community, where he was the first and only doctor for the remainder his career. He started his Potterville practice from his 1st. home there, which was a large two story brick farm house. It didn't have any indoor plumbing and still stands today, although it was moved to a new location. His wife and daughter never forgot that had they had to use an outhouse there, and made sure that other people understood that too. Doc accepted house calls back in the 1930's. During his years as a single parent, he brought his little girl along with him on these personal work visits. At some point, he hired a housekeeper to take care of his home and provide child care. Little Marilyn took it hard when the housekeeper was let go, after Doc suddenly and unexpectedly remarried. The maid had become her emotional mother, and she was heartbroken by the separation. When tough economic times hit the world in the 1930's and 40's, Doc Myers would forego on cash, and barter his medical services for chickens and produce. He knew exactly what it was like to be one of the common people, poor with an aching back. He had his own down-home style of doctorin' the town-folk. The nearest hospital was in Charlotte, MI, 7 miles to the south-west. It was called Hays Green Beach Memorial Hospital, and is where he would have performed most of his surgeries and cared for his sickest patients. Lucky for him that he found a town that would have him. Thank goodness for those underserved areas, where the shortage of doctors must of helped him along... hah! Seriously though, he was a brilliant surgeon, I know this because his wife said so. It is true that he didn't have much competition for his services.

A couple of years after he married for the 3rd. time, he lived at 229 Hartel on the corner of Cherry St. in Potterville, MI. It was a 2 story brick house that that he had built in 1939 to raise his family in. His medical office building was right next door to the left, and the brick was matched to his home. Barbara Myers used her personal charm and office skills to assist him in his work. For a short time, he had his own air ambulance service featuring himself as the pilot. It turned out to be a better deal for his patients than for himself. Even though he was a risk taker, he must have foreseen that it wouldn't work for him. "Doc," was a Methodist, though not practicing; a Mason, a recreational pilot with his own small plane at one time, a champion marksman (skeet & trap), an unbeatable card player, a pipe, cigar and cigarette smoker, a beer drinker, and a big sports fan. At home he whiled away the hours watching ball games on tv. Also, he had held bridge parties in his home with his 3rd. wife and friends. His wife Barbara characterized him "as a man's man." He was also known for his incredible memory, which no doubt had helped his card game. He and his wife Barbara, traveled without their children but partially lived in lakeside cottages in the summertime. Over the course of their 30+ years together, they had bought four different cottages. The first two were at Duck Lake, a couple of hours drive from where they lived. The next and final were at Mullet Lake in Cheboygan County, at the north end of the lower peninsula. That last lake home was built as a family project by Albert, Jim and David (sons) themselves. Having a cottage was most important to Doc. By around 1971, he and his former wife Barbara had divorced. He was in his 70's and had to retire, while she needed to keep working and remain active and insured. She was still in her 50's and had serious concerns about her long term security. Government benefits for widows wasn't what it is today. So she was right about that, she took her cut of their savings while the getting was still good, and escaped having to provide custodial type care for this elderly man, smart! There wouldn't have been much in it for her to stay. Neither one of them was particularly interested in being a caring or supportive grandparent.

In retirement, Doc bought a lakeside home on Stanton Lake in Montcalm County, and lived by himself for as long as his health permitted. He shopped for groceries himself and used a dishwasher. There, he kept himself busy by slowly remodeling his lake-front billiard room. He replaced the knotty pine paneling with blue vinyl paneling. He slowly mowed his large lawn on his riding mower, planted evergreen trees along his driveway, tinkered around in his garage workshop and tool room, watched sports on television, read newpapers and went fishing. He paid a teenager to come over and assist him with house-hold chores, who he had referred to simply as, "the boy." Maybe his memory was beginning to fail him, and he couldn't remember the young man's name. Doc was getting careless with his tobacco ash. The boy would follow him around the house, holding out an ashtray in an effort to capture the hot ash. It had the appearance of a comedy act, but raised all kinds of emotions and concerns. Nearly every day, Doc would meet with his widowed friends at the local diner for coffee, breakfast and conversation. Which of course he thrived on. Thereafter, he lived with his daughter Marilyn and her family for about a year from 1977-78, leaving shortly after New Years. While there, he set a living room chair on fire, by dozing off during the day with a cigarette in his hand. His daughter managed to avert an inferno, by pulling it out of the house through a sliding glass patio door. There was an incident where he became confused, and got lost while driving on the highway. An officer took his licence away, and that became the end of his independence. He then moved to a private nursing home that his son David had located for him, under the advice of a friend. Doc seemed to enjoy it there. He was one of only 7 male patients or residents there and he made himself a home right away. It was a house with a separate floor for the seniors and they all had their own rooms, a shared kitchen and living room. His nurse and her family had lived on the first floor. It also had a swimming pool and large grassy yard which made for a pleasant view. He lived there for less than a year before he died at the age of 81, from various health problems that we generally label as old age... May he rest in peace.

For everyone who exalts himself shall be humbled, while everyone who humbles himself shall be exalted. Luke 18:14...

PURPOSE: Not for the sake of the gold, not for the sake of the fame, not for the prize would I hold, any ambition or aim. I would be brave and be true, just for the good I can do.~~~ I would be useful on earth, serving some purpose or cause, doing some labor of worth, giving no thought to applause. Thinking less of the gold or the fame, than the joy and the thrill of the game.~~~ Medals their brightness may lose, fame be forgotten or fade, any reward we may choose, leaves the account still unpaid. But little real happiness lies, in fighting alone for the prize.~~~ Give me the thrill of the task, the joy of the battle and strife, of being of use, and I'll ask, no greater reward from this life. Better than fame or applause, is striving to further a cause. ~Edgar A. Guest~