How Dr. Mann Was Brought
Joseph G. Dudley, a Wisconsin Man, Raced in an Automobile
CROWDS CHEERED THEM
Physician Reached the President Thirty-Three Minutes After Mr. Dudley
Made the Start.
BUFFALO, N. Y., Sept. 13.—The race
for the president’s life on Friday afternoon, September 6, was an
intense one and known to but the participants. It developed yesterday
that it was as exciting and dare devil as the race of Johnny Baker
against the Connemaugh [sic] flood the day Johnstown was
In this case a surgeon was needed
and a Wisconsin man, Joseph G. Dudley, now a prominent lawyer in
Buffalo, a native and for many years a resident of Wisconsin, gave
most valuable assistance. He left the exposition grounds thirteen
minutes after the president was shot, drove at breakneck speed five
miles in an automobile and returned to the exposition hospital in
thirty-three minutes with Dr. Mann, who, Dr. McBurney, the eminent
abdominal specialist of New York, declares saved the president from
immediate death by promptly opening the stomach, sewing up the incisions
and cleansing it so well that the most dreaded of secondary symptoms,
peritonitis, did not show itself.
Mr. Dudley had been one of the committee
on ceremonies for president’s day, and on Friday went with the official
party to Niagara Falls, arriving at the grounds at 3 o’clock in
the afternoon. His first knowledge of the catastrophe came with
a sight of the hospital ambulance racing under mounted police escort
to the Temple of Music, followed by the blanched face of Mr. Milburn,
president of the exposition, who was riding in a carriage. Mr. Dudley
got to the hospital before the arrival of the president, assisted
in keeping the crowd back and, on offering his services to Mr. Milburn,
was quickly told to get Dr. Mann, Dr. Parke or Dr. Parmetter. Mr.
Dudley jumped into an automobile and was driven through the west
gate. With the one man who had gone with him as an assistant he
then took the automobile, the driver acquiescing when he learned
its purpose. The carriage was ordered to follow immediately behind,
thus forming a relay for the outward journey. Mr. Dudley ordered
the automobile given its full current.
“I’ll be arrested,” protested the
“No. You’ll not. I’ll answer for that,”
said Mr. Dudley. Accordingly the lever was opened to the full. Down
Elmwood, across Forest and into Delaware avenue, the mobile tore,
Mr. Dudley and the other man at each side, hanging over the dashboard
waving people and teams back. At Utica street, the first car crossing,
the superintendent of the city police, William Bull was met, driving
rapidly to the exposition. He called for news, guessing the errand
of the mobile. Before an answer could come two blocks separated
them and all shouting was lost in the whirl of the wheels. Just
after they crossed Utica the mobile slowed up, Mr. Dudley jumped
to the ground and tried the house of Dr. Parke. He was at Niagara
Falls and unobtainable. The other two surgeons in the city who could
be relied upon were Drs. Mann and Parmetter. The home of Dr. Mann
half a mile further on, two miles and a half from the exposition,
was the nearest. To that the mobile went, still at full speed.
Dr. Mann was out. The girl did not
know where he was. Mr. Dudley sat down at the telephone, got central,
“I must have Mr. Milburn immediately.
He is at the exposition hospital. It’s about the president.”
“Mr. Milburn, I can’t get Dr. Mann,”
said Mr. Dudley. “He’s not —” A step in the room caused him to turn
about. There stood Dr. Mann.
“Here he is. We’ll be right out,”
called Mr. Dudley to Mr. Milburn.
“Do I need my tools?” asked the doctor.
“I guess not,” said Mr. Dudley. “He’s
at the hospital.”
“That’ll save time,” said the doctor.
Mr. Dudley ran ahead down the steps.
In front of the next house was another automobile. The steam mobile
driver called to Mr. Dudley:
“I’m afraid the steam’ll not hold
out.” Mr. Dudley saw the electric machine, called to the ladies
“I want your automobile. I must get
the doctor to the exposition without waste of time.”
One of the ladies asked: “Do you know
where we can get another?”
“I do not,” said Mr. Dudley, “we’ve
got to have this. The president is shot.”
“What!” shouted several. Before they
could leave the house to ask more questions the steam mobile, with
the doctor, Mr. Dudley, the other man and the driver were up the
street, with the electric mobile in hot pursuit, acting as a relay.
Four blocks up the carriage was passed, coming down, the horses
blown, the driver tired with much whipping. The steam mobile distanced
the electric vehicle and soon the two were stringing out like the
pace and the rider in a five-mile handicap. The run was straight
to the grounds. There Delaware avenue branches out and leads into
Lincoln parkway, from which opens the cerefonial [sic] entrance,
with its grilled doors. These were closed. The driver was about
to pull his lever to slow up.
“Open it wide,” called Mr. Dudley.
“But the gate,” objected the man.
“They’ll open all right,” was the
Mr. Dudley and the other reached from
the front of the vehicle, half in, half out, hanging on by the stanchions,
hats in hands, waving frantically and shouting—what they were ever
able to remember— as loud as the wind and their voices would let
them. Nearer came the gates, faster went the automobile. It looked
like a smash-up. Twenty yards away the doors came down and the ceremonial
The mobile shot through, the great
broad court in front and beyond the esplanade and the Temple of
Music, around which was gathered an angry mob. Two bicycle policemen
were idling in the way. They saw the coming whirlwind, sprang to
their wheels and were off in front, cleaning the road of all possible
obstructions. The steam gave evidences of playing out. It began
to lessen and had it not been for the momentum already acquired
the automobile would have slackened. There was still three-quarters
of a mile to go. The machine pushed on, slowing up for the crowd,
and just on top of the Mall, at the bottom of which, 200 yards away,
lay the hospital, the last gasp of steam died away and the break
was the only useful lever left for operation. But the race had been
won. The road lay down hill, and from there on the mobile with its
doctor coasted in, through lines of armed guards and drawing up
at the door of the hospital just thirty-three minutes after the