Fred, the family doctor --- RIP

Bill likes to tell the story about Fred Marienau being one of the first people to come and greet us in our new home. He happened to be driving his pickup down Great Northern Road, remembered we were buying our first piece of property, turned into the driveway and said he had to come and see the place for himself.

He probably had heard a lot about our purchase because I was making monthly visits to his office at the time. Fred was our family physician, and I was expecting our son Willie when we made that big purchase from the Bank of Idaho, which had taken over the 10-acre farm with the big classic red barn.

Bill's story completes itself when he tells that Fred's daughter Sarah and her husband Todd Mitchell were among the first to take the complete tour of the Lovestead nearly 30 years later, shortly after we moved in. It meant a lot to Bill that members of the Marienau clan cared enough to stop in both times. By that time, Fred was no longer our family physician.

He had retired, and Dr. Tom Lawrence took over his practice, a practice Fred had taken over from the doctor who delivered me and three of my siblings, Dr. Wilbur Hayden. Dr. Hayden was a good friend of my dad's (they were hunting buddies), and his first wife was a very close friend of my mother's. They were both artists.

Mother tells about how my brother Kevin was Dr. Hayden's first patient when he came home from the war and set up a practice in Sandpoint back in the mid-40s. His daughter Karen, who resides near Louisville, Kentucky, and my mother still remain close friends, long after the deaths of Wilbur and Marge.

It's no secret that a family doctor plays a key role in each family's life, even when most members of the family would rather avoid those scary doctor's office visits with all those scary things doctors have to do to make sure we stay healthy. In Fred Marienau's case, we also felt fortunate to know many members of his family well.

The Marienau and Tibbs families were united by horses---Arabians. Just like our family, the girls in the large Marienau family goofed around and became fully devoted to horses, unlike most of their brothers. Becky, Sarah and Mary all were members of our Schweitzer Valley Dwellers 4-H club back in the 1970s.

I'll never forget the trip to Southern Idaho in 1976 for a state judging contest when 13 females, including Delsie, Becky and Sarah, giggled their way all the way down and all the way back. We stayed overnight in the bunkhouse of a huge cattle ranch in Dillon, Montana, where many a good anecdote ensued.

Becky and my sisters continued their horse fanaticism back in the late '70s and early '80s while attending the University of Idaho. Becky had the car, and Barbara and Laurie rode with her over to R Lazy J stables to take lessons from longtime and highly respected dressage instructor Betty Tukey, who continued to teach my sisters for decades afterward.

In those years since, horses have continued to play a major role in the family friendships.

And, in those years since, Dr. Marienau continued on as a family physician who created a well-child clinic at our local Community Hall where babies could get periodic check-ups and their series of vaccinations. If there was a cost to this, I do not remember paying it, but I do remember taking advantage of it with both of my kids, like hundreds of other mothers.

Another story Bill likes to tell but also likes to forget deals with a night when we had come home from a trip to Lewiston. Stopping by my folks' place on North Boyer at the time, we found a darkened house and could not believe that the county 4-H horse show was still going that late. It was about 10 p.m. So, we drove down to the fairgrounds, where we found the last class of the day and the night just ending.

In those days, horses were ridden or led to the fairgrounds, which was just half a mile down Boyer Road from our farm. That night Barbara and Laurie had an extra horse to take home. So, Bill offered to take Sassy, the consummate bomb-proof, cute little Appaloosa mare, taken by numerous 4-H'ers as their project. Calm, little Sassy, however, had had enough of the day spent standing at the fairgrounds.

Bill climbed on her bareback with just a halter and lead. That's when Sassy decided enough was enough. She was going home. She took off across the fairgrounds at a dead run with Bill---hardly experienced in equine skills---holding on for dear life. Bill always tells that when they reached Boyer Road, which runs alongside the fairgrounds, Sassy didn't see the stop sign, but he did.

So, he bailed off and landed really hard in the ditch while Sassy raced home. My dad happened to be home at the time standing in the driveway. He saw Sassy galloping into the driveway, opened the gate and let her into the barnyard. Meanwhile, Bill rolled around in the dark ditch, moaning a bit but restraining himself because a crowd had gathered, wondering if he was still alive.

I heard a lot of moaning that night. The next day he went to Dr. Marienau's office, and when told to drop his drawers for an examination, he heard the good doctor say something to the effect of, "Yup, you've got a good-sized bruise on your rear." Bill lived. No broken bones but a pain-filled memory that will stay with him for life.

We, as a family, have many good memories of "Dr. Reno," as Willie, during his boyhood, used to call him. Most folks who knew Dr. Marienau often mentioned those big, bushy eyebrows and those huge hands which could do the most refined of craftsmanship when sewing up a wound.

Dr. Marienau meant a lot to us. When we think of him, we chuckle about his sense of humor and his well-timed, sometimes rather opinionated one liners. He was in the background a lot when it came to our horse activities, but we knew he was always working hard to ensure that his family could maintain that wonderful rural existence filled with horses and an appreciation for the land and what it could produce. I could talk Marienau gardens, but that's a whole 'nother story.

Our family doctor and friend died last Thursday on Sept. 11, the anniversary of a day when two magnificent icons in far-off New York City fell to the ground. In Sandpoint, when news of Dr. Marienau's death began to circulate throughout the community, I'm sure there was a sense that one of Sandpoint's well-respected icons had passed on.

And, then the stories and reflections began. The community will say good bye to Dr. Marienau this week, but his legacy will go on indefinitely because of the permanent influence he, as the family doctor and friend, had on so many lives in this area---literally.

Our thoughts and prayers are with Delsie and the family.