saxophone. now there were three of us blowing. and alto saxophone, tenor saxophone and a guitar. luckily my father worked at ford as a candidate, and likely the army band was stationed. many of the members were trained in juilliard, so the best school in the country and he asked them to come by and teach us. las..

>> very quietly in the back as my father was trying to learn the upright bass. and the teacher said, mr. thornton, you know, you've got to practice. you can't just come in here and try to learn the song, you've got to practice. but mommy just sat and listened. next thing you know, mom's on bass, and daddy's out. so we had to change our name to the thornton sisters because we wanted to be more manyture and sophisticated -- mature and sophisticated. now, in those days i know a lot of you mow "american idol"? sure, yes? before that was "star search. "all these are amateur shows that, basically, give the amateur a chance to star and to be a star. well, back in the 1950s there was the same sort of amateur show called ted mac's and the original amateur hour.

and my father says, well, we should apply for that. ted mac and the original amateur hour. we said, okay, daddy. and believe it or not, we're on. so what i want to show this wonderful audience is that you have to go back. now, this is historical. this had to go back over 50 years ago. this is 1959. now, what the thornton sisters looked like and sounded like back in 1959. if i can do this right, joey, i'll be okay. if not, we're in big trouble. ♪

>> oh, yeah. geritol. >> [inaudible] >> and here's is your host, ted mack! ♪ >> [inaudible] >> [inaudible]

>> this is donna, 14 on the tenor sax. i'm the one clapping my hands. stage presence. here i am at 11 years of aim on alto -- age on alto. this is jeanette, she's 13 years old, on guitar. the next person you're going to see is linda, she's 9 years old, on the drums.

♪ [applause] >> well, thank you. thank you. thank you. [applause] well, you know, after, ted mack and the original amateur hour my father said, you kids are pretty good, let's try the next step. the next step was the apollo theater. now, some of you are too young, but showtime at the apollo is famous, but those days it was the bastion for black

entertainment. anybody that was famous had to go through the apollo theater, and on wednesday night they had the amateur night. if you won four weeks in a row, you could win a paid week with the stars. now, the operative word is paid. now, we went through four week at the apollo, and we won the first week and the second week and the third week, and the fourth week the management said, oh, no, the rules have been changed, you're going to have to win six weeks. my father got a little upset, and he said my -- it's been four weeks all the time. so the thornton sisters, a little older than this, won six consecutive weeks at the apollo theater in harlem, and we won a week at the stars. and we said, daddy, forget about this doctor dream, we're stars! he said, girls, you're young. people are fickle. you've got to eat every day, and we're here for a reason, not a season. the fact of the matter is that if you're educated and have the structure around your neck, you

can do manager for the rest of your -- something for the rest of your life. but if you're a i musician and you break your lip or fracture your fingers, it's out. if you're an athlete, if you get injured, you're out. but if you're a doctor and you're educated, they will come to you. and that's what your mother and i want for you. so we went back to studies. several years later the thorn sisters were cutting records -- thornton sisters were cutting records. we said, this is fabulous. our names were on the marquee. i said, daddy, forget this doctor stuff, we are famous! and he goes, famous, girl? what did i tell you before? now, again, two years had elapsed, and we were 15, 16 years of age. he said, girls, sit down. this is my dad again. he said, you're looking good, you've got nice figure, everybody's -- everybody loves you, but you've got to look down the road when you're 50, 60 years of age, gray hair, wrinkled, trying to blow a sax

so phone -- saxophone. not pretty. [laughter] in the audience when we were at the brooklyn fox a gentleman from princeton university said, mr. thornton, we'd love to have your daughters play at the cap and gown club. so from 1963 to 1976, 13 years, my sisters and i and my mom were in a little van. we were like the chocolate partridge family up and down the east coast performing at every college we could in order to generate money to pay for tuition to go to college. now, that's 13 years every friday night, every saturday afternoon, every saturday night, every sunday afternoon the thornton sisters were on the road. but my mother said, yeah, we have the money now, thank goodness, but you're still going to have to be smart. so on the weekends we were performing, on the weekdays i was studying organic chemistry, and that's the way it was for 13

years. i performed with my family straight through until i was a resident, an ob/gyn. we all went to college in new jersey. why? because monomouth college was five minute away. we live inside long branch, and my father said that's as far as i want my daughters to go. now, we had planned to go to howard. oh, no, it was too far away. in order to keep the band together. now, you can go to college, you can do well, but the dream still had to be realized. now, i went to a very, very small teachers' college, but my professors at the university were dedicated. and from the university i went to columbia college of physicians and surgeons which was, basically, a quantum leap from a small teachers' college to an ivy league university that was the first medical school to award the md degree in the colonies. so here i am, a physician. and that brings me to a point where i wrote the second book,

"something to prove." i want to read some excerpts out of the second book because you think you've got the brass ring, you know? you're a doctor. i'm a doctor. i have an md from columbia. so what do you do? the again, i just wanted to read to you what doctors do. and this is from the first chapter, first page of "something to prove." chapter one, the subbasement and the glass ceiling. new york hospital cornell medical center, early 1980s. quote, i knew in medicine, right, you'd always with respected -- be respected. when a man is sick, he doesn't look to see what color you are, he wants to be made well. unquote, donald thornton. come to the hospital if your water breaks or if anything else goes wrong, i always told my patients, we'll take good care of you. even if you're not in labor. not all of them listened. mary paulson hadn't listened. mary, pregnant with her first

child, was in her early 30s full of life and strong-willed. her water had broken two days earlier, but she had no contractions, and so against doctor's orders -- mine -- she just stayed home. it wasn't until she felt feverish that she decided to come to cornell medical center in manhattan where i was the director of clinical services for the hospital. i could see right away that she had an infection in the her uterus, a potentially dangerous situation for both mother and baby. i started mary on antibiotics, then i induced labor. everything went smoothly at first. she was two centimeters dielated, four sent meters dielated, fully dielated. we moved her into the delivery room. the epidural was administered and soon after, mary delivered her baby. it's a boy! i asked if she wanted to put him to her breast, mary said she was

too tired. we were done except for delivering the placenta, or so i thought. usually the placenta follows the baby right now, but it can take up to 30 minutes. the clock ticked. 25 minutes, 30 minutes, nothing happened. the placenta's just being a little bit stubborn, i joked, but in the back of my mind i was thinking, please, god, don't let this be. now, a relatively rare but potentially fatal complication happens when the placenta attaches itself too deeply into the wall of the uterus, and it can cause complications. give me more iv fluids, i said, and called for to toe sin, a medicine that causes the uterus to contract. i also told the nurse to get me an el bo-length -- elbow-length glove so i could move the placenta manually if necessary. but a moment later, the placenta

came out. but mary was still bleeding. it's normal to see a little blood after the placenta is delivered, but nothing like this. this was the red sea. something was very, very wrong. what could be causing mary's bleeding? i went through a checklist in my mind. could part of the placenta still be lodged inside? get me a banjo cure relate, i called the nurse, and used the surgical instrument to scrape the walls of the uterine lining. everything was clean and mary was still bleeding. whether it was because of the infection had caused a reaction or because something else was in play, mother nature had thrown us a curve ball. mary complained of feeling light headed. her pulse raced to 120 beats per minute. she was going into shock. we were losing her. move her to the operating room, i yelled, feeling dread. only once had one of my maternal patients died.

it had been a long time before when i was chief resident at roosevelt hospital, but i could still picture every awful minute in my mind. it was july 19th, 1976, and her name was jasmine r irk vas. she had been only 19 years old, something that no one could have foreseen interfered with blood clotting after she delivered. i got the call at 3:14 a.m. i had been at home across the street in our 24th floor apartment on west 59th street, but i slept in my white coat just in case there was an emergency. so when they called and told me that jasmine rivas was hemorrhaging, i was ready to go. i didn't even wait for the elevator. i flew down those flights of stairs and got to the hospital in less than five minutes. it didn't matter. we tried everything. and we couldn't stop the bleeding. i watched her die on the table. nothing at that time could have saved jasmine rivas, i knew

that, and yet i swore to myself, never again. yet here i was close to losing mary. the whole gurney was filled with blood, and i had the nurse call down to the blood bank for four pints. mary was in shock and not fully conscious, but i heard her mumble my name so i explaned as we -- explained as we prepped that we had to go in. there was no time for nicetieses, and the prep was taking too long. give me a scalpel, i snapped. i made an incision from her belly button down to her pubis. in the delivery room i had tried to massage the uterus externally to encourage it to contract. we had to find another way to stop the bleeding. i had my assistant take over while i went in to tie up one of the larger arteries that feeds into the uterus. i clamped it shut but still mary was bleeding. it's 60 over palp said the an

anesthesiologist. palp means that the second number is barely audible. it's 40 over palp. we're going to have to remove the uterus, i said. my heart sank at that thought. this is a young woman. she just had given birth to her first child. if i performed an emergency hysterectomy, there would be no second child. if i didn't want, she might have only minutes to live. before i took that step, though, i wanted to make one more attempt to stop the hemorrhage. it would involve a more difficult procedure, one i'd performed only twice before, tying off an artery that's deep into the pelvis and surrounded by all sorts of very vital organs. time was running out. i moved the bowel and carefully made my way around the you arer the. there -- ureter. there it was. i tied off the artery. the bleeding reduced almost immediately to a trickle. that was it. i realized i was soaked to the skin with perspiration even in

the chill of the operating room. there were no high-fives, no shouts of success, just an exhausted team silently feeling relief of having saved a life. and, for me, at least a quick silent prayer of thanks because no matter how well-trained or experienced i was, i knew that i had a little extra help in the operating room that day. and that ends part of the first chapter, and so i'm a doctor. and that's what obstetrics is. obstetrics is many, many hours of boredom. you sit around, you hang around, and the word means to stand by. that's what it means, to stand by. so many hours you're standing by, you're waiting for a person to deliver, and it's interrupted by five or six minutes of total chaos. so i became the doctor my father and my mother wanted me to be. so here i am, i have the brass ring, i am dr. thornton. but i'll tell you, the title of this new book, "something to prove," is another reason why even though i thought the

loving, the maying field was level -- playing field was level, i looked after i got the brass ring and found there was another rock wall i had to climb, and that consisted of racism, sexism and male chauvinism. now, you can whine, or you can go and do what you're trained to do. i'll tell you, when i was working at a hospital in new jersey, i was minding my own business walking through the labor and delivery. a nurse came out screaming, dr. thornton, you need to come in! now, it's not my patient, i don't know what was going on in the delivery room. what was happening was there was another obstetrician, he was in trouble. now, the baby's head was down, but it wasn't coming out, and the baby's heart rate was going down. so he said get somebody, i need some help. go outside, get anybody. i need help. so the nurse came out, dragged me in, and i came in to the delivery room, and the obstetrician looked at me and said, what is she gonna do? all she saw or he saw was a black woman.

he did not know that i was a double board certified single medicine specialist. i asked the nurse, may i have a forcepses, she gave it to me, i asked him to, excuse me, may i sit down? i sat down, i applied the forceps, we delivered the baby with good apgars. my job was done. i got up, i left the delivery room, and the only person following me running after me to thank me was the husband of the wife. not the obstetrician, but the husband. and so that's what i'm saying. you don't expect to be loved, you don't expect to be part of the in the crowd. and, yes, i'm a woman of color and something to prove is always something to prove. when you're a woman in this a dominated male profession, you always will have something to prove. now, again, life is life. me, i happen to be black. but you could be from the wrong country, you can be from the wrong school, you can be short, fat, greek, it doesn't make any difference. but if you're not welcomed, what are you going to do about it? you'll always have something to

prove. now, again, i'm a woman, i'm a mother, and i'm a wife. so with me there's another layer of responsibility. now, we have powerful women today, powerful women. we have a surgeon general that's a woman. we have supreme court justices that are women. condoleezza rice, secretary of state. but in my situation there was another level of obligation and responsibility, and that is having kids. now, what do you do? again, at that same hospital ided about 5:30 in the afternoon, and i'm ripping off my clothe t. god, 5:30, i have to get back home, what am i going to have for dinner, and one of my colleagues was in the doctors' lounge just relaxing. i said, peter, it's 5:30. aren't go going to get home? i'll let peggy, you know, feed the kids, put 'em down, and i'll come home around 8:00 and say good night to them. i said, well, that's not me. i am racing down route 90 trying to get home, what's for dinner, did i get the sneakers for my

son, did i get the artwork for my daughter, and that's the difference in being a woman professional. yeah, our society expects us to be moms, but i loved and wanted to be an obstetrician. so my mother would always say no amount of success in your position can ever make up for being a failure at home. many of my colleagues are wealthy, they may have children that are lost to drugs, suicide, emotional disturbances, but i knew whatever i had to do and the decisions i had to make had to incorporate my children. now, the next excerpt from the book is about my chirp. what are these little kids going to do? just like grow i have a son and a daughter. my son is 32 years of age, my daughter is 30. but he was young once, just like you, and this excerpt is about my son. we'd given in to woody's pleas for a nintendo game. it seemed at first like just another toy, so we said, sure, why not? my husband, sherwood, usually got home first and either picked

up the kids at school or took over for our nanny, pam. between my academic responsibilities and faculty practice and being on call, my schedule was more jam packed than my orthopedic surgeon husband's and also less predictable. babies come when they want to come, but hip replacements can get scheduled weeks or months in many advance. arriving home tired from the hospital one day, i popped in on woody and carrie downstairs in the family room playing with their electronic games. hi, kids. what are you doing? nothing. no hello, no the nod, no reaction whatsoever. they sat there like little zombies mesmerized by their nintendo. all they could see was the monitor and the electronic image of a red racing car pinging around an animated blue track. i wasn't thrilled to be treated as if i didn't exist, so i

stepped in front of the monitor. move, mom, came the urgent plea. get out of the way! i did as he asked, but as i made my u-turn behind them and saw sow entranced woody and kimmy were, i wondered how such a game could possibly be good for them. i went back downstairs and told sherwood that i didn't want nintendo to turn our children's mind into mush. he smiled and told me to relax. it's just a game. and kids need to play games. he had a point. it's a game, kids need to play games, but did they have to play that game? just as i'd done in my studies and my career, i'd fallen pack on my parents' wisdom when raising my children. they always thought years ahead to how their daughters' childhood activities could help or hinder them as adult t, so i tried to think ahead too. one day they'd be applying for college. no matter how adept they'd become at it, nintendo wouldn't

impress anyone in the admissions committee. what would help my children develop, do well andal have fun? they had started piano lesson when they were still toddlers and loved it. what sort of game would make all of us happy? i finally came up with just the thing. chess. [laughter] kimmy was still too young for it, but chess would challenge woody and stimulate his intellect. there was just one problem: i didn't know how to play chess. neither did sherwood. so i put an ad in our community paper. chess teacher wanted to teach 7-year-old. the following sunday a few day before christmas the doorbell with rang. i opened it and found a shy young man on the doorstep carrying a comp sis book. -- composition book. he said his name was aviv, he'd just come to this country from israel, and he lived on the next block, about five houses away. i'm an israeli chess champion,

he told me. my sister saw this ad in the paper. i told him to come right on in. then i took him downstairs to the family room where i had a large black coffee table specially made with an inlaid chess board. i introduced him to woody, showed him the chess pieces and left them alone. as i walked up the stairs, i could hear mr. friedman telling woody that the piece in his hand was a pawn, and it was worth one point. at the end of an hour, i checked on them, and i could swear that woody seemed as engrossed in those little chess pieces as he had been in the dizzy, pinging, flashing, zooming of his nintendo games. as i paid mr. friedman for the lesson and arranged for him to come the following week, he said, you know, your son has a spark. even better, woody said he'd had fun. he was looking forward to his next lesson. hearing that was like getting an early christmas present. now, moving forward woody was

doing well with his chess lessons. he seemed to have a gift for the game, and soon mr. friedman said if he kept at it, he would be ready to compete in chess tournaments. i even got woody an electronic chess game that he played between his lessons with mr. friedman. the computerized chess game had this annoying mechanical voice that would announce at the end of the game, i win, you lose. [laughter] how woody hated to hear that announcement. he would play against that machine for hours only to hear, i win, you lose. [laughter] it frustrated him to no end. then one day woody beat the computer. at the end of the game, the annoying computer-generated voice had a different message: i lose, you win. [laughter] woody was so pleased with himself he left the game on for hours after that. anyone going down to the family room would hear the game's

mechanized concession of defeat in broken record mode: i lose, you win. i lose, you win. and that's the end of that chapter. now, what happened to woody? woody is my first born, and woody went to public school. we believe in public school. and woody went on from high school to harvard. he graduated cum laude at harvard, he went on to columbia university college of physicians and surgeons. my son is a physician, and he is studying neurosurgery. i'm smiling because when they're little kids in preschool, i said maybe your grandfather was a janitor and a ditchdigger, but your dad and i, you know, we're financially stable, and we can support you. you can be anything you want to be. cardiologist, radiologist, ob/gyn, surgeon, as long as there's an md behind that name. we said, no problem, mom. straight on. now, he was like the parent

pleaser. woody in his chess before he went to harvard became the united states junior open chess champion. he was a national high school chess champion, national junior high school chess champion, national everything chess champion, new jersey state chess champion because he loved chess. and chess was just the one thing to position himself so that he applied, admitted to ivy league schools and was accepted at all the ivy league schools he applied. now, that's the first one. you say, oh, it's just wonderful, my second one's going to be the same way. no. my second born is kimberly, the rebel. and she says, well, there's too many doctors in this house anyway, you know, i don't want to be a doctor. so i said, you know, the mantra, everybody's supposed to be a doctor. no, i want to be in music. she's a classically-trained pianist, and she went to stanford. she got her degree in studio art. so i said, okay, what are we going to do with that? but i just wanted to read a

little thing about my little rebellious daughter, kimberly. kimberly is the second born, and i believe that the second borns are always somewhat rebellious. now, in this part of the book pretty soon kimmy began going to tournaments with her brother and dad, and mr. friedman said that kimmy was unusually talented too. he said she was not obsessed as her brother. for her it was still just a game, not a calling. anytime she got cornered in a difficult match, instead of trying to figure a way out of her predicament, she would say, i'm tired now, you can win. it was getting close to halloween again, and kimberly wanted to wear a tina turner costume to school. when i heard that, i put my foot down. tina turner! i said, oh, no, you're not going to be that wild woman with the earrings and the short, short miniskirt. oh, no, not my daughter, absolutely not. she begged and she pleaded, but

i wouldn't have it. i would not permit my daughter to strut around in a skimpy outfit. she could be a princess, i said, and that was the end of that. a couple days later they had a chess tournament at manhattan chess club, and sherwood, my husband, took the kids, and i stayed home. he called me with a progress report. now, you have to win the most out of five games to win the tournament, and each game gets progressively more difficult. woody was doing quite well, but kimberly had lost her first two games. i knew she could have won at least one of them, but she wasn't even trying. put her on the phone, i said, remembering how daddy would give me and my sisters incentives to do our best when we were little. ..

>> he had difficulty believing it himself but he saw it with his own eyes. not only had she aced the next three games, she'd be a play that was rated very high. while i was happy that she applied herself, and one, i was considerably less happy that i could follow through on my promise. i got the caution for her. too short leather mini shirt, matching leather jacket, blond wig, he rings. it wasn't bad enough she wore

that cost into school, but that day her class went to the hospital to show off their costumes to the little sick kids. i could only hope none of the doctors at the hospital realized that that child dressed as a wild woman was the daughter of doctor thorne and dr. mcclellan. so that's my daughter. now, she went and got her degree in studio art. i said what a going to do with that? she said i'm going to be a curator at a museum. i said that signed. -- that's fine. after a while when she couldn't meet our financial obligations out of california she made her way back to colombia, to new york city, and she was accepted. she was accepted, applied an executive columbia school of public health. i said that's great. that's fabulous. she said mom, i know what you really want.

i said that's me. whatever you want to do is just fine when mom is happy. so my daughter now kimberly is now first year medical student. she wants to be a pediatric reconstructive surgeon so she can use her artistic wants and needs and talents so that she can help many children with cleft lips and cleft palate. so my sisters and i -- we are a joke. in our community. but my two children are done with legacies. that's what comes when you just keep going and keep trying. the last excerpt from this book i wanted to read to you is about my dad. and it starts many years after my mother had died, we took daddy out for his birthday. at shadow brook restaurant, onee of those hoity-toity restaurant that we couldn't afford when we're kids. it was all very elegant with

waiters in tuxedos and sharing served and crystal. it didn't hurt it had some of the best primary in new jersey. daddy was always a meat and potatoes kind of guy. my sister linda, the youngest, i've come to town from fort meade maryland. she was an oral surgeon. she was in the dental court and an army major. my sister jeanette had finished medical school after getting her degree in psychology. daddy had expected her to be the first dr. thornton. the first to be stethoscope around her neck. but she rebelled and on her own way so he must have been thrilled when she finally got her medical degree, even if they came later than he had hoped. it had been a while but we were all there, just him and his girls again, the way daddy liked it. no kids. the waiters dash tighter reins a little surprise before the main course. the maître d' came to the table

and announce there's a call for dr. thornton. some serious buyers turn to see who was doctor thorton. jeanette, linda, and i rose from our chairs and as we stood up, the look on my father's face could have lit up the entire eastern seaboard. there wasn't really any call. i had taken the maître d' aside earlier and asked him to page doctor thorton during dinner because i wanted to see the wonderment on my father's face when three of his daughters stood up to answer. each of us was doctor thorton. we were the living proof that daddy had done what he set out to do. daddy marveled at a standing as if he couldn't quite believe it himself, that he managed to achieve this impossible dream. all his work, all whose sacrifice had paid off. he was too tough to cry, especially in front of us girls. but if there was ever a time he came close, that was it.

i knew it was the best birthday present we could have given him. and that ends chapter to. [applause] >> oh, thank you, thank you. now, what happen to all the people of until you about in the last half-hour or so? happens to all these people? first let me tell you about my mom. my mom passed away at 60 whether she was the one he was the impetus have the right the first book, "the ditchdigger's daughters." i'm not in all the. i'm not a writer. i deliver babies, but when she had called one day when i was in hospital, honey, it would be nice have a book in the library. she didn't say barnes and nobles, she said the library. she said who would have thought you would have ended up being anything? and just think, here you are doctors. a book in the library and it will tell people with a little faith and hope and determination you can be anything you want. i said mommy, i'm too busy.

i'm delivering patient, delivering babies. i don't have time. >> she said that's only one was a book in the library. i said yes. i was very respectful but i was too busy to write a book. my mother died six months when. she died in 1977, january 8, 1977. from that time on from 1977 into the time the first book was published, it took me 18 years to get that book published but i got it published. when the american library association named as one of the best books for young adults i said mommy, this book is for you. my mother would always say that you reach exceeds your grasp. well, what's the have and for? nadja aims behind even though fulfillment may seem impossible. so we tried, we fulfilled, and it became impossible. what happened to my mother? while working with the west virginia higher education

commission and with basically bagley, i worked with beckley and i worked with bloomfield state teachers college, the college she was at the she had to leave because she couldn't afford the last year. and it 2005 my mother was in the class of 2005 having been given a doctorate of humanity humanities posthumously. my dad died at 57 years of age. he was too young to die but he worked so hard. he worked so hard, three job sometimes. he would go pumping oil and then he would be digging ditches, and he would be agenda. he said i would rather work hard, and many people say dot he going to work hard, you're going to hear -- you're going to kill yourself. my father would always say you can always talk to sell. nobody can stop you. don't let anybody define who you are. if the front door is closed, go back to the back to get him.

if the back door is locked to go around to the side. it aside when it is close, get up on the roof. but don't give up. never, never never give up. that was my father. he was our moral compass. today when children don't even know up from down, we have our priorities are all messed up, when a hero is just a sandwich and went geode d. stanford guaranteed overnight delivery, and when somebody gets paid more for saving a baseball game than saving a life, then we have problems in our society. the tenor saxophone player, donna, 14 years of age playing tenor, shiite forces passed away of lupus complications at the age of 48. she went to mamas college, only had two years. she married, has a daughter, heather. had a has her masters in social

work. heather went to university of virginia and also university of pennsylvania and she lives with her husband in california. my foster city and he is a geriatric nurse ready to retire. she lives in the same house that my father and father build in new jersey. jeanette, the troublemaker, the second born, she said okay, i'm a doctor. my father was not a well-versed man. he was not a sophisticated man. can you heal somebody without? someone is dying? she said no, daddy. it's a doctorate in clinical psychology. he said that's not a real doctor she said they call me dr. martin. >> when my mom was sick in hospital one of the physicians came out and said i know what are the doctors is a doctor. i want to go over -- i'm dr. thornton. he was talking about the drugs

who's going to be using. my sister had this look on her face, and the doctor said what kind of doctor are you? she said i'm a doctor of clinical psychology. and he said oh, it must be your other sister, the real doctor. after hearing so many years of not being a real doctor, my sister jeannette at 32 years and age applied, was accepted and entered boston university school of medicine and guided him be the age of 36. she is a physician. she has a double doctorate now and she lives in albany with her husband who is a gastroenterologist. what happened to me? i married my best friend. we met in medical school. i am dr. thornton. in honor of my father who didn't have a son terry kerry on the name, i am dr. thornton. my husband is chairman of harlem hospital of orthopedics and we've been married for almost 37 years. [applause] >> thank you, thank you.

he is my rock, and at age 47, nasa education has, have done for our family. was always strive for education. at 47 years of age my husband and i went back to school, to get our masters in public health with regard to health policy and management. but what am i doing? i am here today to say what have i done? i, hopefully, have changed the stumbling blocks into stepping stones in order to achieve and to arrive at whatever you want to be. i have two children, wonderful kid, and i'm very happy that i have two children because that is the best compliment i have ever done. again, that's me. let's talk about linda, the drummer. you saw the drummer of nine years old. linda is my idol.

then has three strikes against a. linda was black, female and weight 300 pounds at 5'1". my father would been down and see linda, your brain is on track, go back and study. celinda went back and studied in linda graduate from new york university school of dentistry. she is one of only three board-certified black female oral surgeons in the country. if you go on youtube and type in thorton cistern you fear what the phone sisters satellite back in 1955 and a lead vocalist is linda. linda lawson 180 pounds. went down to 120 pounds and she volunteered for the united states army. she retired as a lieutenant colonel and that she is an associate professor at temple university. she got her masters in health policy and management. that's linda. my kid sister was not here, rita. she was basically that kid

sister. when the first book was written, she was a science teacher. after our parents passed away we said they want more from you, rita. you just can't have a bachelors. they want more for you. but secretly my sister rita went back and she applied and was accepted to seek knowledge university school of law. so she has a jd. she didn't like law and so today read at 85 years of age, she was the first black woman at new jersey institute of technology to get her ph.d in environmental science. so, therefore, no, not all of us are physician. but the surviving doubters of my parents are all doctors thorton. we made that one gigantic leap in one generation. manage integrations you go and get it drop out of high school, the next generation will complete college. the next generation will go on to graduate school.

but in one generation, it's almost unheard of, that a janitor in a ditch digger, somebody working in the slaughterhouses and a garbage man, and a woman who claims people's houses, would rise so we're successfully independent. that can be done because we realized the power of a dream. thank you. [applause] >> now, this questions and answers from the audience. i know you must have some questions. there's a microphone for you to speak into on both sides. don't be shy. you mean to tell me not one question? come to the microphone.

>> hello. i'm a ninth grader, and my question was, like so you feel really proud that you like completed your father's dream, like you deliver all those 5000, a lot of children like he really wanted to that bad, either the. but he wanted a boy. >> you said he really wanted a boy? >> how would he feel like you deliver all those children everyday? >> that's my profession as an obstetrician. i deliver lots of babies. as far as my father was concerned, after a while he didn't have what it was a girl.

he just wanted us as his daughters do the best that we could, to rise above and be educated. that would be the only way to kind of get us out of the ghetto can't get us into the mainstream. i'm sure he's happy in heaven that his daughter that is an obstetrician, but i've always wanted to deliver babies since i was eight years of age. [applause] >> just come to the microphone. i'm not going to bite you. just come to the microphone. just come to the microphone. >> okay. okay, do you think you ought. >> yes, i think i'm a ditch digger to my son. i didn't understand that? i'm sorry.

i can't hear you. [inaudible] >> with regard to the inspiration of guiding my son to where he is today? yes, i believe the. i think as a parent you have an obligation to make sure your children rise as high as their little brain can take them. so yes, i do. [applause] >> hi. my question is why did you choose especially of being a doctor? like, why that type especially? >> why did i choose obstetrics? in the first book at tell you, you. the first book i was eight years of age in an elevator with might and in a hospital. and a young lady came in and she delivered right there in the elevator. she delivered, she squatted and whom, she delivered too fast for her to get to the maternity

ward. i was there and i witnessed the delivery of that baby and i said wow, this is cool. i can be around when one person becomes two people? this is cool. so that's what i wanted to be ever since i was eight years of age. [applause] >> hello. i'm an 11th grader. >> good. >> i wanted to know if you had any advice for any of our young women here who are going to college or want to take a major and want to see what our life path is going to be. >> i say, for my family does medicine. everybody can't be a doctor. i not saying that. look to what you love to do, when you get up in morning and you think about doing. that's what you should strive for. don't let anybody say you can't do. when you go off to college,

especially liberal arts colleges, there's so many options. but he focus on what you like to do and stick with it, you will do well, versus over here, another semester over there. and uses time. time is very valuable. you can't get time back. choose something, stick with it and you will do just fine. you're welcome. [applause] >> hi. my question was, do you believe that your grandkids or your nieces and nephews will carry on the legacy of your father and what he wanted you guys deduce because i going hope so because this is me in my opinion. i think medicine is the most noble of all endeavors. for one human being to another. you can heal somebody, say somebody's life. it's very, very noble. so i hope that my grandchildren will go into medicine also. or something that they will be able to help people.

>> thank you. >> you're welcome. [applause] >> hi. i know you are successful do. what do you think is your best achievement so far? >> best achievement is having my two kids actually. being a mother of two wonderful children. thank you. [applause] >> but also being a double board-certified maternal-fetal medicine specialist doesn't hurt. >> my name is samantha and i wanted to know other than your mother and father who supported you? >> who supported me like my role model? known. it was just my mom and dad. we were insulated from the community that were naysayers who said you can't do it. i never heard of a lack doctor, i never heard of a female doctor so why do what your daughters to become doctors? we were isolated from the community and insulated in love.

my father said you can do a think you will. don't let anybody define who you are. if you want to be a doctor, be a doctor. that's a we did. we put the blinders on and put earplugs in our it and kept going forward to what we wanted to do. [applause] >> i was wondering, like, when using called for a long time did you are start to drift off into you're doing what you love, but did you effort change a major real quick and comic? >> some people do that. i didn't. people say being a doctor for some measures in so many years, but god willing you have to live those many years anyway. when i went to university, monmouth college, there's a prescribed course you had to take the joy defaulted so i follow the curriculum. however, some of my colleagues who are physicians now, they took two years and they went to

chinese literature or art and they came back to pre-med, and they just didn't go to medical school right away. but in my situation i went straight from undergrad to medical school without any sort of deviation. [applause] >> we have the last two questions. >> did you ever feel obligated to be a doctor because your father was like telling you to do and what did you ever liked tried to do something else or try another field? >> that's a good question. not me but my other sister, jeanette. and my father wanted us to be physicians because he felt by being a physician you are secure, your financial security, you are safe. i've always wanted to be an obstetrician. so that was a confluence of what my father wanted, i.e. being a doctor, and what i personally wanted which was being an obstetrician. so a doctor who delivers babies was an obstetrician, so i was the first one in my family to

become a doctor. i inspired my younger sisters. i motivate my older sisters so that we can all go forward and do the best that we could do. [applause] >> thank you. >> and there's one more. >> my question was, out of the 5000 sure that you deliver to is there like a specific memory that stands out to you the most? >> that's an excellent question. we will end on that. why? because i didn't, i didn't have an answer to that question a few weeks ago but i have answered no. what stands out in my mind? of the 5542 babies i delivered i was asked to attend the wedding of one of the babies i delivered 25 years ago. and i was there at the end of february, and her mom was in a wheel chair. her mom was a paraplegic and that's why she came to me because she had a complicated pregnancy. i delivered, her mother, no

other obstetrician want to touch her mom, but i said if you can get pregnant, with the help of god we will take you to. she delivered a lovely daughter. i was asked to be a guest at her daughter's wedding. when i stood up and saw her, the baby that i delivered, walk down the aisle and her mother in his motorized wheelchair right next to her, it was such an overwhelming emotional time for the to say that if i was trained at will, that and we wouldn't be here. so for me it was a wonderful time to see that i do touch people, i do make a difference. and has an obstetrician who touches a choppy for the mother touches it, is that you do touch and have a feeling of immortality. thank you very much for asking that question. [applause] >> to find out more visit the author's website, doctorthornton.com. >> you arrived, the timeframe,

the shooting happened at 227 time at approximately. six shots cut off in less than two seconds. how long before the hospital was dealing with this quest was a matter of a few more minutes. >> that's right. he came right to the hospital. he walked and collapsed and they brought him to the resuscitation a. foremost promise were notified by communications is betting, patient is coming and the trauma team assembles wooden. there was very little time to do that because you so close but they were there. they got there, put him on a journey. took off his clothes off. started examining it and did all the right things. it was a flawless resuscitation. >> reagan walks in, jerry parr is with him and jerry tries to help them out and reagan says no. jerry thinks he wants to be a cowboy i guess. he gets out and hitches up his pants like he always does and his aide says i think he's going

to be okay. the other eight are not so sure. and ronald reagan in his role as president as a role to play. is a long time after. he was not going to get carried offstage through those doors. he walked in, gets in about 15 feet and collapses like a rock just like that. there's a paramedic director, a source, i should've said that too loud. not a secret one but he provided information, and bob fernandez is there. he sees reagan fall to the ground and bob thanks my god, he is code city. code city means he's going to die. the other nurses, their hands are shaking. are having nightmare thoughts about the present will die. he looked that bad. they didn't think he would make it. >> what did you think, jerry park when he collapsed? >> well, i thought he was going to die. about the first three or four minutes, because he looks so terrible. and one of the first nurses

said, i thought she said no blood pressure. but what she said was low blood pressure. and think hard be. i didn't think he was going to. but he kept living on in living on, and they kept doing the right things to him. >> doctor, let's go back to that page you got there in those days i guess was a pager you're tearing? >> usually they paid me to a bellboy. i was surprised or a stat page over the public address system, and its unusual so i went right downstairs and i walk into the emergency room and i saw a lot of strange people, you know, young people with their phones, little tiny things in the ear. i did know what was going on, and when it went back in the resuscitation area there he was, just lying on a stretcher, totally naked. the president of the united states, my residence what they're doing -- >> did you know -- how did you know it was the president? >> i just lying.

there was no question about it. >> you had never seen him naked to? >> i had never seen him naked. i assure you i just looked at his face. i promise that. [laughter] >> my residence were there and doing an excellent job resuscitating him. and putting ivs and doing all things that we trained to do. they all spend time and the shock trauma unit in baltimore for three months what they were expressed in managing patients. when i got there he was improving already. he was lying down so that's always improves blood pressure. secondly, fluid was going any. he had a concerned look on his face. we asked him how he was doing to what's going on. he said he was short of breath and had some pain. >> you knew it was a bullet the? >> we had information, there was a small little hole right