Red Barons at Work

Retired from business,these men commit hundreds of hours to volunteering at Greenwich Hospital

Last summer I was trimming my mother’s hedge with an electric chain saw. I made a quick (and stupid) move and before I knew it, it was la grande crise. The tip of my finger was deeply gashed, and I was dramatically whisked to Greenwich Hospital. A very kind gentleman escorted me between suturing and X-rays. I was calmed. I was impressed. I thought, “Who is this angel with such a sincere air of benevolence in my time of need?”

Although I didn’t get his name, I later learned that he was one of ninety-seven men, mostly retirees who volunteer many unsung hours at the hospital. Every week, this mighty force, many of whom have had successful business careers, are now happily delivering medications from the pharmacy to patients; escorting patients to and from the emergency room; taking coffee and fresh pastries to busy doctors, nurses and administrators; giving comfort to patients in ambulatory and oncology; and reading and playing with children in waiting areas. This debonair legion of distinguished men wears snappy three-button red blazers when they are on duty and are called Red Barons.

One of the first Red Barons was Brendan Rafferty, known as “Muff.” His wife Betty, known as “Peter,” was also a volunteer and was president of the hospital auxiliary from 1977 to 1979. Muff worked in the emergency department — keeping crutches in order and cheering up patients. There apparently were no men volunteers until he popped up in 1970, but it is just as likely that they didn’t bother to sign in.

Another early Red Baron was Oakley Martin. When he retired from General Electric in 1976, Oakley decided to become a hospital volunteer. During his tenure, he worked in pharmacy, oncology and medical records.

“Oakley was amazing,” remembers one volunteer. “He was jolly, quiet, and hustled around everywhere in the hospital.”

Although Red Barons are required to give three and a half hours per week, Oakley came in five days a week, accumulating 26,853 hours during his twenty-six years of volunteer service. He hung up his red blazer in 2001 at the age of ninety-four.

“He took his job very, very seriously,” says Sal DeAngelo, an Oakley protégé and trainee. (Sal’s son is Bob DeAngelo, director of the Greenwich Boys and Girls Club.) “I saw Oakley tell volunteers that there are certain things you can and can’t do, but he always acted as a gentleman. He was Mr. Volunteer, as far as I’m concerned. Oakley was a great person.”

In recognition of his contribution and dedication, the auxiliary established the C. Oakley Martin Memorial Fund, a reimbursement fund offered to professional and nonprofessional employees seeking to advance their training and education in the health-care field. Oakley’s dedication continues to inspire new Red Barons.

“Greenwich is a great town for volunteering,” says Marguerite Heithaus, director of volunteer services at the hospital. Marguerite herself started as a volunteer in 1970. She served on the auxiliary board, and after two years as its president, the hospital hired her in 1989. Last year, according to Marguerite, volunteers logged more than 62,000 hours at Greenwich Hospital, saving an incalculable amount of money if the administration had to hire paid staff to do what they do.

“There are a number of hospitals in Connecticut that have as many and, in some cases, more volunteers than we do,” she continues. “However, the spirit of volunteerism seen in our community is outstanding, and we’re the beneficiary of that.”

“It brings a lot of satisfaction to know that, in some little way, I’m giving back to the community that has given so much to me and my family,” says Sal, who was born in 1923 in the old Benedict Building at Greenwich Hospital. “I really get a great kick out of it.”

Prior to retiring, Sal worked at the Allen Brothers Cadillac agency in town from 1946 to 1992. Today, you’ll find Sal in the pharmacy. “We do just about everything that needs to be done: check in orders, do discharge sheets, deliver prescriptions to patients’ floors — anything we can to make it a little easier for the nurses and the pharmacists.”

The pharmacy has about twenty-nine Red Barons during the week to help out. There might be three on a morning shift, and two or three in the afternoon. Before the Red Barons, the pharmacists had to do all of these tasks themselves.

“Mostly, we take patients from point A to point B,” says Bill King, a fifty-year Greenwich resident who, before retiring, spent thirty years in the marine equipment field as a manufacturers’ representative. As a young boy, he volunteered for the 4-H Club at Englewood Hospital in New Jersey, where he says he basically “moved bottles of oxygen around.”

When Bill began volunteering at Greenwich Hospital nineteen years ago, he was on coffee cart delivery that made stops at nursing stations and administration offices where folks were often too busy to grab something to eat. Pulling a heavy aluminum cart over miles of hallways was no easy feat. Bill later became an escort, taking patients (many on stretchers) from emergency to X-ray, logging about three miles on his shift. He’s made a number of friends and looks forward to spending time with his fellow Red Barons Jack Lipman, Ian Whittall, John Grady, Gordon MacDonald and Peter Fahy.

“We enjoy one another’s company so much that on the second Tuesday of every month, we go to Centro for lunch,” Bill says. “We all agree that what we do is a great way to give back to our town. No effort is too much.”

“Once you get started, it’s hard to stop,” agrees Larry Mabes, who has tallied more than 783 hours in ambulatory. “I began volunteering during my career as a 747 pilot when I flew all over the world. I would be out of town a lot, and then I’d be home for a spell. Becoming a Red Baron was a good way to get involved with the community.”

Larry continues to fly as captain for CitationShares, a fractional jet ownership company based in Greenwich. “What makes it nice for me is that I work for Citation one week, and then I’m off one week. I have a great time at the hospital, and it’s something I look forward to when I return home.”

The town’s Retired Men’s Association is a good pool for recruiting Red Barons, whose goal is to find others who would like to join their team. Becoming a Red Baron is simple: Fill out an application, undergo a health review and criminal check, have an interview, go through orientation, look over the written position descriptions for each department, and pick a place to serve. Then train with a seasoned volunteer until you’re comfortable with your assignment.

Although there was subtle acknowledgement of seeing Leona and Harry Helmsley, Jack Paar and Frank Gifford at the hospital, mum’s the word for Red Barons. They are sworn to confidentiality in all matters and take the vow seriously. What else does it take to be a good Red Baron? Sensitivity, knowing when a patient wants or doesn’t want to talk, wisdom, discretion, dedication and respectfulness.

Befitting the task is Joe Makowski, a Eucharistic minister on the oncology floor, who has accrued more than 3,000 hours over the past eighteen years. At ninety years of age, he continues to volunteer one day a week, from seven in the morning to noon.

“I visit with patients, change ice water, clean off their bed stand, and distribute Communion. I’ll do anything they ask,” Joe says. “I even help nurses lift patients, and at my age that’s pretty good!

“I have a lot of faith and get a lot of inspiration from Father Martin Igoe at Sacred Heart,” says Joe, who can often be found at the 6:45 morning Mass. “The Lord has guided me through this life. You can have all the money in the world, but if you don’t have faith, you have nothing. It gives me a sense of peace to be a Red Baron, as well as strength to take care of my wife Helen, who has Parkinson’s. We’re married sixty-two years and love each other more now than we did then. That’s because we have faith. It carries us through everything. And giving to others at Greenwich Hospital, well, you just can’t buy that.”

Joe enjoys working with oncology patients because they “really need help. I get them to talk to me about anything they want. I have beautiful prayers that I hand to them, too. What most patients really want to do, though, is just talk.

“I meet all kinds and have to be ready for every circumstance they may be in. It makes me happy that I can help some of them enjoy the rest of their life. When you’re born, you’re born to die.

A lot of people don’t realize that. Some people take it hard, and some accept it.”

Joe has fond memories of one patient, a Jewish woman. “I helped her realize that there’s only one God up there, regardless of differences,” he recalls. “She was eighty-two and I was eighty-three. There was a happy spiritual ground between us. She said we would make a good match and proposed to me!”

Another Red Baron, Michael Ryan, has put in more than 1,875 volunteer hours in the emergency room, where anything can happen 24/7. “It’s a wonderful place to volunteer,” Michael says. “You see so many things and feel like you’re part of a team, and that you can really, really make a difference in the quality of care a patient receives.

“A couple of weeks ago, we had a sixteen-year-old girl brought in by her mother,” Michael says. “I was behind the front desk at the emergency room since the nurse was in the back doing vital signs on a patient. I asked the mother what happened, and she said her daughter had overdosed. When you see a teenage kid in that state, it’s just wrenching.”
But there are the lighter moments, too.

“A few years ago,” Michael says, “there was a woman in one of the rooms reserved for psych patients. I went in to see if she wanted a blanket and she mooned me! Many of the psychiatric patients sleep a lot, but this one was obstreperous!

“A lot of elderly people are sweethearts,” he continues. “They touch your soul and make you smile. Perhaps they won’t make it through, but it’s very moving.”

“The Red Barons are a great reflection on Greenwich Hospital for attracting this caliber of gentlemen as volunteers,” says Barbara King, Bill’s wife, who works on the oncology floor with Joe, where she bathes patients, makes their beds and arranges flowers. “People love seeing men being so caring.”

“God gave me the gift to help people in any way I can,” Joe says. “A lot of patients thank me for spending time with them, but my response is that I’m the one who is grateful to them.”

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It is with great sadness that as this issue was going to press we learned that Joe Makowski passed away. Joe’s compassion and caring will most certainly be missed, but he will always be remembered by the hundreds of people whose lives he touched. We offer our condolences to his family and friends.

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