Cape May Diaries

 

36 - Dr. Physick revisited

           

 

The man I always thought of as “the real” Dr. Physick had to take his tan top hat off in order to answer as himself rather than the character his played.

While I had spoken with other Dr. Physicks in the past, this portly character dressed in turn of the century garb always struck me as the most appropriate character I had seen since coming to Cape May in 1990. Over the years I had seen him wandering around the streets, pompously reciting local history in the midst of clusters of tourists.

We had even seen him for several years running attending the brass band concert at the hall on the beach, where he thrust his cane up in the air to the beat of the music in imitation of a band leader.

In some ways, he became the personification of Cape May when we thought back after traveling north again.

This was our fourth year in a row visiting the Physick Estate, which was in many ways a return to the home I had grown up in as a child, my grandfather surrounding us with all of the elements he had considered signs of “class” once he had come into his own.

Our dinning room and the master bedroom of my home might have been taken straight out of this estate.

On this trip, the self guided tour we took of the house also came with a ticket to the couch house where artifacts of the original occupant as well as a history in photographs gave us a glimpse of the good doctor.

Our Dr. Physick strolled in during the middle of our reading, sat down, and offered to answer any questions we might not have.

At times, I was the only person asking him questions; partly because I felt we were wasting the opportunity at a very colorful lecture. This Doctor was rarely short of opinions, many of which – while reflecting the times – did not sit well with contemporary values. His opinion of women, for instance, was, he noted, considered liberal in his day, and complete chauvinistic in ours.

Some people paused to ask sensible questions. Others asked ludicrous ones. But the good doctor handled each in the same steady manner, pondering over each for a moment before giving his thoroughly honest answer.

When the thin crowd thinned to a point at which I was the only questioner, I asked him about how long he – the actor – had performed the role.

He stirred but not yet out of character, said he needed to remove his hat in order to answer such questions, and did.

In this conversation and in a later communication, I learned that the actor was also the MAC Museum Education Coordinator Bob Heinly – who over the course of six years had gone from being among several Dr. Physicks to the one many considered chief, a traveling encyclopedia of history about Cape May but particularly about the man around whom much of the preservation center. Heinly as Dr. Physick posed throughout the city at various functions, giving life to the historic character that we felt each time we met him. Sometimes, he traveled to local schools, other times he offered lectures on how people lived in the Victorian Era, what their homes were like and such.

His talent for teaching history is easy to explain since he served as Social Studies Supervisor for Rose Tree-Media S.D. in Media, Pennsylvania – considered one of the top school districts in the state and the nation.

“During some summers and evenings I taught at various Philadelphia area colleges and universities, mainly Penn and LaSalle but at times Widener, Villanova, West Chester and others,” he told me later.

Calling his retirement to Cape May “alleged,” Heinly reported previous acting experience when he portrayed various colonial characters at Independence Park and Brandywine Battlefield in the Philadelphia area.

“This was very part time (mainly summers and then right after retirement in 1997),” he said. “As an old teacher and professor this seemed to come naturally as one should be a good entertainer to be a good teacher. U.S. History was one of my areas of expertise, so I already had much of the content knowledge.”

MAC, he said, knew of his background and asked him if I'd like to be one of their Dr. Physicks.

“Since then I've become the ‘lead’ one, as well as coordinator of their rather extensive museum education program,” he said. “I love being Dr. P.!  What a great life for an old retired historian! Being a historic person is a wonderfully unique way to learn, teach, and experience history. The Victorian Era was not my specialty prior to coming to Cape May (I was an American Revolution and Civil War specialist with my degrees in same plus education).  It is highly rewarding to help others learn more about their history and heritage ... and maybe grow to appreciate it a bit more ... and even love it.”

Heinly also said Cape May is a unique and fascinating museum without walls which is an ideal setting for such efforts.

“As one gets older one becomes more and more concerned about the quality of one’s life and lifestyle and what legacy one might leave behind,” he said. “Thus helping people enjoy this place and its heritage and history is especially rewarding for me.”

Some of the more curious moments – the oddest and funniest – come when dealing with those Heinly calls “the moderns.”

“Most common is helping them pronounce my name correctly and explaining that it has nothing to do with the purgative,” he said.  “Recently I also have had to deal with a lot of ghost questions as the spirit of Dr. Physick in more ways than one. Each encounter is different. Each demands that I be Dr.P. for them. I especially enjoy being perplexed about modern technology (like cell phones) and having the moderns explain them to me, and being a typically irritating but charming (I hope) Victorian male supremist with the ladies. All this while teaching them about the Victorians and the Victorian Era by what I like to call `the seductive approach.’”

A day later, we met Heinly as Dr. Physick again when we sat in the audience waiting for the brass band to start. He moved through the crowd, nodding at people he knew or had seen, greeting those who seemed interested in him, a man thoroughly alive inside the skull of a man more than a century dead.

 

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