Skip to main content

Doc Welch - The Country Doctor

In this episode, Doc Welch . . .



Many authors have characterized life in rural Illinois over the years. Among the more notables are Edgar Lee Masters, who wrote Spoon River Anthology, Carl Sandburg for his poetry and biography of Abraham Lincoln, and little known to me until recently, my first doctor, whom everyone in town always called Doc Welch - James K. Welch, M.D. (Feb. 7, 1915, to May 5, 1998)


While exploring the microfilm of the Cuba Journal (published from 1884 to 1992), I consistently kept running across articles entitled The Country Doctor. This intrigued me.

Doc Welch was a third-generation practicing Country Doctor in Cuba for over 40 years. His father, James William Welch, M.D., practiced medicine in Cuba for more than five decades. His grandfather, James Knox Welch, M.D., settled in Cuba after the Civil War.

Cuba, Illinois, is a small, rural farming community in west-central Illinois, where I grew up. Like many small towns, it boasts a central square with a bandstand surrounded by local businesses. It was a thriving community; most people worked in one of four large industries; International Harvester in Canton, the local coal mines surrounding Cuba, farming, or Caterpillar Tractor in Peoria. However, today it's a relic—one of those midwestern towns that have fallen into decay.


There are beautiful old houses I remember as a young boy that today stand vacant; windows were broken out and collapsing. It's disheartening. I never witnessed the decay; it was 1976 when I moved to Macomb to attend Western Illinois University. From there, I moved to California.


As we mentioned in a previous podcast Our Town, my memories of that thriving community are of days gone by; Day & Palins, the grocer, one of my first jobs as a stock boy. Two hardware stores; Marshall's Hardware; how could anyone forget Toy Land? And Gambles, where we bought my first Sting-Ray bicycle. Cuba Motors, the local Ford dealer. The Cuba Department Store, with its optimistic clerk Doby Lemons. Two barbershops; Ed Huggins, Cardinals fan, and Cocky Lyons, Cubs fan. Ben Franklin Five and Dime. Cox's Corner, the local sundries, where we bought comic books and enjoyed a Green River. Cuba Bank, my first savings account. The Cardinal Cafe, where I became a pinball wizard before my daily paper route while waiting for the papers to arrive. Emil's Market, the local butcher, the Post Office, where I learned to count change from its Postmaster, The Cuba Journal. And Doc Welch's office - "Say ah . . . drop your pants, now turn your head and cough."


While exploring microfilm of the Journal from 1963 to 1965, I caught myself reading a weekly column, The Country Doctor. For over 30 years, Doc Welch wrote articles for; The Cuba Journal, The Canton Daily Ledger, The Galesburg Post, and the Prairieland News Journal.


Curious, with the advent of the internet, how many young people use the library for reading pleasure and research these days? Not many, it seems; there were three people there during my two-day research. They were playing games on the computers (there are three) available to patrons. For those who make it home for the holidays, library hours are from 9:30-4:00 daily. They have free WiFi.


Previously my depiction of this community was that of citizens who live to hunt. Some would say it is an idyllic lifestyle, while others find it boring. Neither is accurate, for the town's character changes with its people, time, place, and the observer's perspective.


During this visit, we happened to pick up a copy of Doc's book, The Country Doctor, published in 1996. It is a collection of his favorite newspaper columns from 30 years of articles. Doc's perspective is a refreshing one. In his essay - Coal Mining - he writes, "This erosion of industries and jobs is a melancholy example of what happened to rural America. My wife and I watched with distress, but we never wavered from our belief that the rural environment was the best one to raise our six children. We also believe rural society will rise again and that it could be a model to remedy many of America's current insanities."


Being a product of the rural community myself, I couldn't agree more. The question that keeps coming to my mind is, what catalyst will rejuvenate small communities like Cuba? Is it education? Could it be e-business? Is it volunteers? Maybe it's you and me. Think about it.


According to LaVonne A. Straub, Ph.D., professor of Economics at Western Illinois University, "The country doctor does not treat patients with laser precision that hones in on "the problem"; rather, it is with an approach that considers the whole patient - the person, the family, and the environment. To each, the doctor gives a part of himself in the process." Bravo!


Reading Doc Welch's book (my copy is well-thumbed) provides an enlightening perspective on what it means to grow up in a rural community. A deeper understanding of what is meant by "Midwest values" and a deep appreciation of the environment, friends, and the family you love.


If you do get a chance, take a look at The Country Doctor by James K. Welch, MD. It's available on Amazon.


I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening; see you in the next episode.

Comments

Wes Wilkey said…
Great tribute Pat. Doc Welch told me to drop my pants and cough many times over my 9 years of living in Cuba. I carried papers with you, but I don’t remember playing pin ball in the Cardinal Inn. I’m not even sure where it was located.
Duane Anderson said…
Outstanding presentation of not only Doc Welch, but our community and our childhoods of of being raised in a great atmosphere of our little town of Cuba, Illinois "The shopping center of Fulton County and always Free parking! Lol. You hit almost all of local businesses, but forgot to mention "Meet at the Rock" where we all gathered to drive to the other small towns to play baseball or softball.
Patrick B. Ball said…
Hello Diane, I don't remember "Meet at the Rock"; we always met at the ballpark. Oh, well, thanks for the comment. These days, I get fleeting memories of things from childhood that I do my best to document.
Patrick B. Ball said…
Hello Wesley, The Cardinal Cafe was next to the Ben Franklin store. I remember picking up the Canton Daily Ledger at your house on 9th Street. Later, we picked up papers behind the Post Office.

Most Popular of All Time

Opening Day Magic 2026 . . .

It’s back. Baseball—yes, baseball ! If you’re someone who finds themselves inexplicably drawn to this peculiar ritual, let’s be honest with each other: it’s a bit odd, right? I mean, 162 games. That’s a lot of hot dogs, a lot of standing around, and a lot of grown men in oddly tailored trousers spitting with remarkable precision. And yet, here we are, poised on the precipice of another season. Thursday, March 26, 2026, to be precise—Opening Day. It’s a curious thing, this Opening Day. You walk into a stadium, or turn on the TV, and suddenly, everyone is infected with a highly contagious strain of . . . Optimism . It’s a spectacular form of collective amnesia. All of last year’s fumbles, the endless losing streaks, the existential dread of watching your bullpen implode in the eighth inning—poof. Gone. It’s entirely replaced by a wide-eyed, childlike belief that this year, finally, the baseball gods will smile upon us. The Cycle of Hope and Despair As a Cubs fan, I know this cycle intim...

Overcooking the Grid

In this episode, terrified of smart toasters, yet demanding infinite electricity for potato personality tests. Pull up that chair again, and let’s hope your coffee is safe this time. In our last chat, we talked about our well-meaning but occasionally delusional AI friend, Chef Adamas, and his penchant for hallucinating blueberries into your Carbonara. We learned how to manage his quirks by keeping our “digital pantry” organized. But today, we need to look past the chef and take a hard look at the sheer size of the kitchen we are building for him. And folks, that kitchen has gotten completely out of hand. Down in Louisiana, tech companies are currently building an artificial intelligence data center the size of 70 football fields. It is a four-million-square-foot digital brain that requires so much electricity they are building three new natural gas power plants just to keep the servers from literally melting down into a puddle of expensive silicon. And what are we using this god-like, ...

The "Doctor" Who Never Was

In this episode: The "Doctor" Who Never Was — A Return to the World of Seuss. Let’s take a trip back to March 2, 2022.  I was four years younger, significantly more naïve, and I made the mistake of asking an innocent question that—somehow—still echoes through the halls of pediatric offices everywhere:  Where exactly did the name Dr. Seuss come from? Because if we pause for even a moment, the whole thing is absurd. At some point, we collectively decided to accept moral guidance, life advice, and the occasional existential gut‑punch from a man whose résumé included oversized footwear, gravity‑defying cats, and an aggressive campaign to convince us that green ham was not only edible, but desirable. No white coat. No stethoscope. No medical board.  Just rhymes.  This wasn’t really a question about a title. It was a question about authority—and how easily we accept it when it comes wrapped in whimsy and ends with a couplet. Theodor Seuss Geisel was born in Springfield, M...

Sierra Reflections 2011

Wrapped in the cozy warmth of a down bag I’m jolted awake from a deep slumber - nature calls. The silence is shattered by the rustle of my sleeping bag. The sweet aroma of the mountain fills the air, and that ever-present biting crisp air on your cheeks!  The zipper moans as you free yourself, then the struggle to find your wool sweater, pants, and shoes to stumble into the brisk morning air. Another zipper whines as you crawl to escape the protection of your mountain shelter. Quietly . . .  do not disturb  is the invisible sign worn by your fellow campers. Photo: Robert Weldon Darkness surrounds you, it's early morning, late summer. It’s tranquil, except for the soft gurgle of the trout stream that lulled you to sleep the night before.  Finally - clear weather, the rains have stopped; millions of stars twinkle like tiny sparkling diamonds against a pitch-black sky. Orion, the hunter is clearly visible in the eastern sky; careful inspection you can see ...