In addition to the standard studies of anatomy, metabolic diseases, and digestion, Philadelphia Medical School students were required to attend courses on basic dentistry and the administration of pharmaceuticals. Ellis’s regular second-year routine also included classes in chemistry, electric therapy, and her favorite subject, obstetrics:
Attended a clinic at twelve o’clock, obstetrics by Doctor Cleveland. This to me is the most interesting part of my studies. To understand this and the diseases of children shall be my greatest object for the next two years. To be able to treat these conditions and diseases successfully, I think there could be no greater accomplishment in the medical line. At four o’clock Mrs. Pratt and I attended a lecture by Doctor Eliza Judson upon the “Management of Infancy.” To express the varying emotions that I experienced during that interesting and eloquent lecture would be impossible. In addition to the competency of the lady herself, the subject, to me so all-important, thrilled every nerve center of my being.
The more Ellis learned about how to care for children, the more inspired she became to share her knowledge with mothers everywhere. In her journal she emphasized the importance of women awakening to the responsibilities of motherhood and striving to be better educated in order to tend to their offspring.
Lectures given on ways to ensure the health of infants were of particular interest to Ellis. She could not help but reflect on how valuable these lessons would have been to the life of her own babies who had died at an early age. She took detailed class notes, tracing the expected development of a child from birth to twenty-four months. The notes were taken not only to help her future patients but for her own personal edification:
. . . no living creature so utterly powerless, instinct only prompts it to sleep, cry, and nurse. The head of the infant at birth is more fully developed at birth than other parts of the body owing to the greater amount of pure blood which goes to this part. . . . When it enters the world it should be immediately wrapped in warm flannel and if [it is] a strong, healthy child [it] can be bathed and dressed without delay. . . . How necessary it is for mothers to cultivate the purest, mildest and ennobling emotions through these acts, for her child will partake of every sensation of her being.
Ellis Shipp’s high marks proved she was an exceptional student. Combined with her commitment to curing children’s diseases, her exemplary grades prompted Philadelphia hospital administrators to offer her a summer internship position. She reflected in her journal that her hands-on experience there afforded her a chance to gain knowledge that would have been impossible to obtain by simply reading.
In an attempt to complete her studies earlier than the required four-year term, Ellis decided to spend her summers in class rather than return home. On March 14, 1878, barely three years since she began medical school, Ellis graduated and was on her way back to Utah. Many changes had occurred during her absence. Her children had grown and her husband’s other wives had added to the Shipp lineage.
Milford had changed as well. Unbeknownst to Ellis, Milford had been studying law at the same time she had been studying medicine. A few months prior to her graduation, Milford was admitted to the Salt Lake Bar.
Once she was settled at home, Ellis began the happy task of reacquainting herself with her children. She was not in a hurry to start her own practice, but she felt compelled to do so as more female patients were referred to her by the male physician in the vicinity. Her priority was to family first and medical work second.
Ellis’s work expanded beyond hearth and home and caring for the ailing. In the late 1800s, she was selected to represent notable Utah women at the National Council of Women in Washington, D.C. While in attendance, she presented a paper on the care and training of children. Her talk was heard by such well-known female leaders as Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Stanton, and Clara Barton.
Doctor Ellis Shipp’s specialty was obstetrics and the care of women and children. During her fifty years of service to communities throughout Utah, Ellis helped deliver more than 6,000 babies. Her interest in medicine expanded beyond simply practicing the profession into the area of teaching. Early in her career, she resolved to share all she had learned about healthcare with others. It was a goal she realized in June of 1879, with the opening of a school of obstetrics. In 1909, reflecting on why such a school was necessary, Ellis wrote:
As the domains of Utah were becoming inhabited by enterprising men and women, their needs must be supplied. Our new colonies in this western growing country were in sore need. There was not one in their midst who could understandingly care for expectant mothers. And thus came the urge of imparting this knowledge to women. So often we heard the pitiful stories of suffering and even death of women and children. Precious life sacrificed for the need of intelligent care.
At the request of the president of the Latter-Day Saints Women’s Relief Society, Doctor Shipp decided to travel to other states and countries to teach women the fundamentals of science and the subjects of nursing and obstetrics. Ellis held classes in Mexico, Canada, Arizona, Colorado, and Idaho.
The emphasis Ellis placed on a higher education was not lost on her children. All five of her offspring completed college. Two of her sons and one of her daughters became doctors themselves.
Doctor Ellis Shipp’s illustrious medical career officially ended in 1935. At that time she was honored by her alma mater. Board members and the staff at the Philadelphia Medical College acknowledged her work in a commencement celebration. Her pioneering efforts as a woman doctor were praised, and they noted that her efforts had had a major impact on the welfare of the women and children of the West.
On January 3, 1939, Doctor Shipp passed away quietly in her sleep. She was ninety-two years old.
FRANC JOHNSON NEWCOMB
NAVAJO MEDICINE WOMAN
And swiftly we pass twixt earth and sky, the wind, the dust, the
leaf and I.
—Franc Johnson Newcomb, 1965
Brilliant sunlight poured in through the numerous windows of the Pesh-do-Clish trading post and danced on the merchandise stacked neatly on the shelves. The popular mercantile sat at the tip of the Blue Mesa on the Navajo Reservation near Gallup, New Mexico. The trading post offered a wide variety of products from kerosene lamps, enamel pots, fresh mutton, and washbasins, to jewelry, clothing, and taffy. Such goods were exchanged for hard currency, or rugs, wool, or pinon nuts. The store was not only a place where patrons shopped, but it served as a community center and dispensary as well.
Doctor Franc Johnson Newcomb, a thirty-year-old woman from Pennsylvania, worked behind the counter helping customers with their purchases and discussing the day’s news or lack thereof. The special attention she gave her Native-American clientele extended beyond their patronage; she also served as a “healer” for the Navajo.
Among the Navajo, Franc was known as Atsay Ashon, or “the medicine woman.” Doctors in remote western territories in the 1920s were rare, and female physicians were an even greater anomaly. Franc had lived and worked alongside the Navajo for six years. She was well respected and admired, and her two young daughters were treated with equal kindness.
MEDICINE WOMAN FRANC JOHNSON NEWCOMB WITH NAVAJO MEDICINE MAN HOSTEEN KLAH IN FRONT OF THE TRADING POST IN 1936.
During brief moments between customers, Franc set aside her ledger and medical charts, and stared fondly out the store’s open door at the beauty of the desert and mountains. While admiring the vast landscape, she eavesdropped on a conversation her children were having with an elderly Navajo woman. The girls had been studying a spider building its web, and were debating over who would squash the bug first. The Indian woman intervened before either of the girls had a chance to take the spider’s life.
“Now don’t you bother that spider,” she warned. “Spiders are our friends.” The quizzical look on the children’s faces prompted the woman to explain her comment. “It was Mrs. Spider who taught the Navajo to spin fine thread of leaf fibers, cotton, and wool, and how to weave these threads into blankets and other useful articles,” she said.
The girls turned their attention back to the spider and watched it diligently working. “And it is Mrs. Spider who catches flies, mosquitoes, and other flying insects in her web so they don’t bother us,” the woman added. Franc looked over at the wise elder and smiled. She had herself always wondered why the Navajo never killed spiders and was just as fascinated with the reason as her daughters.
To fully emphasize the consequences of ending a spider’s life, the woman concluded her short tale with a warning. “Mrs. Spider has teeth sharp as needle points which slant backwards so her prey has no chance to escape. If a child kills a spider, its second teeth will be crooked.” The children stared, wide-eyed, at the woman and then back at the spider. The girls then sprang to their feet and hurried off to find another activity. The Navajo woman watched the spider for a few minutes and then returned to her shopping, satisfied with her efforts to save a living creature.
Franc loved the customs and beliefs of the people that surrounded her. It had not been what brought her to the reservation, but it was in part why she stayed. She became a doctor to bring aid to the sick and suffering, wherever she was needed, and found her place among a people who taught her that there was more to healthcare than she had learned in school.
Born on March 30, 1887, in Tunnel City, Wisconsin, Franc was one of three children born to Frank and Priscilla Johnson. Frank was an architect, and Priscilla was a teacher. Historians believe that Franc’s initial interest in medicine began with her parents. Both Frank and Priscilla suffered, and later died, from tuberculosis. Franc was two when her father passed away and twelve when her mother died. Their tragic deaths ignited a passion within Franc to learn about the disease and find a cure.
After their parents’ deaths, the three Johnson offspring went to live with their grandparents on a dairy farm in Cable, Wisconsin. It was there Franc completed her primary education and attended high school, graduating in 1904. In the fall of that same year, she enrolled at the Wisconsin Sparta Normal School, and in a year’s time she had earned a teaching degree. After graduation she took a job as a teacher at a school in her hometown. The faces of the eager children who had come to learn inspired her. She longed to see that same look on disadvantaged children who wanted an education as well. That desire led her to a one-room schoolhouse on a reservation in Northern Wisconsin. For two years she taught Menominee Indian children how to read, write, add, and subtract.
Franc enjoyed her job and the people around her and immersed herself in the Menominee culture, learning their customs and their language. A persistent cough cast a dark cloud over Franc’s time on the reservation, however. As it worsened, fear that she might be suffering from consumption forced her to make a move. She felt her health would improve if she relocated to a drier climate. News of teaching positions being offered out West through the U.S. Civil Service piqued her interest. In 1912, after passing the civil service exam, she moved to Arizona to begin a new teaching job and hopefully conquer her cough in the arid desert.