Northwoods UU

Dead Table Meeting

April 19, 2026

As a disabled veteran and a diabetic, I have been required to have the annual diabetic eye exam since 2014, when I was initially established in the Agent Orange Registry. Each year, the optometry technician at the Tomball VA Clinic would tell me that the lens of my eyes were showing signs of damage from age and direct sunlight, but no action was needed at those times.

In the late summer of 2022, after our visiting grandchildren and other close family members had returned to Kansas, I realized that my visual acuity had declined, and at age 75, I was finally going to need cataract surgery, as many senior citizens do. I realized this during the grandkids’ visit, as we drove all over the Houston area, especially at night, that I had to keep asking them to read the traffic signs for me.

I visited Dr. Sachs, the local optometrist at Woodlands Vision Center on Sawdust Road, where Judy and I had gone for all our vision needs over the past 30 years. He confirmed that my vision had reached the low threshold of visual acuity that qualified me for cataract surgery according to the Medicare guidelines. He referred me to what he called the best eye clinic in the area and encouraged me to schedule with them. Upon contacting them, I found it would be several months before I could get in to see them, so I contacted Houston Eye Associates on Research Forest in The Woodlands and made an appointment within a reasonable time. They gave me several exams using various specialized equipment.

Finally, the doctor told me that I definitely needed cataract surgery, but my vision after cataract surgery would not be satisfactory because an eye disease, known as Fuchs Dystrophy, had caused the corneas of my eyes to retain excess fluid, making them too thick and impairing my vision.

Here is a link to an article by the American Academy of Ophthalmology about Fuchs Dystrophy:

What Is Fuchs' Dystrophy? - American Academy of Ophthalmology

The Ophthalmologist indicated that the condition might ultimately require corneal transplant surgery. However, I was advised to start a six-month course of specialized ophthalmic drops, which could potentially decrease the fluid-related thickening of the corneas.  After six months we could check to see if the less invasive approach had worked. It didn’t work. Another, more senior surgeon repeated the same eye exams and confirmed the earlier findings. His advice was that I shouldn’t feel rushed to make a decision about surgery; that I could wait until I felt certain about it.

Meanwhile, my annual diabetic eye exam was scheduled at the Tomball VA Clinic. As luck would have it, the technician position there had been upgraded to a Doctor of Optometry. I related to her my diagnosis of Fuchs Dystrophy and was surprised by her response. She asked why I would go to a private eye clinic when the eye clinic at the Michael E. DeBakey Veteran’s Hospital in The Texas Medical Center was one of the best in the country because of their close relationship with the Baylor College of Medicine. She told me the DeBakey Eye Clinic in the Texas Medical Center exclusively partnered with the Baylor College of Medicine, allowing graduate eye surgeons to do their internships at the DeBakey Eye Clinic. So, I never went back to Houston Eye Associates.

I am grateful to the optometrist at the Tomball VA Clinic for sharing with me about the excellent eye clinic available to me through the Veteran’s Administration. I did contact them and scheduled an initial appointment on February 15, 2024.

During the initial visit, two young male interns processed me through a very thorough series of exams just as the Houston Eye Associates had done and came to the same conclusion. It was at this moment that a woman came into the room where I sat with the two interns. The interns had apparently already reviewed my case with that woman and had recommended corneal transplant surgery.  As she began to address me in a most kind and professional voice, I could tell that she held a leadership position in the Michael E. Debakey Eye Clinic. Not to be racist or inappropriate about cultures of the world, but I assumed by her appearance and her voice that her heritage or family background was of the Middle East, perhaps Iran, Pakistan, or such a country in that region. She spoke directly to me in a voice of confidence and authority, saying that they would schedule me for surgery the following month and that I should be confident that I will be in the excellent care of their highly trained staff.

On March 15, 2024, I met with the intern surgeon, who was going to perform the surgery, to cover all the preparatory steps to be taken prior to reporting for surgery on Thursday, March 21, 2024. This intern was a very personable young man perhaps of Asia-Pacific heritage. His professional manner gave me a feeling of confidence about the coming eye surgery. I do have to admit that thoughts of someone cutting on my eyes was a very unpleasant thing to consider. Yet, based on my brief experiences with the clinic staff, I did believe that choosing surgery through the VA was a safe and smart decision

On March 21, 2024, Judy and I arrived by Uber from a nearby hotel on a dark rainy morning before dawn. I reported to the wheelchair room just off the main lobby of the huge Houston VA Hospital. They got me into a wheelchair and guided Judy and me up to the surgical floor which was already filling up the 40 or more curtained cubicle beds and began the customary connections and procedures to prepare me for the procedure which was to be done on my right eye. While all that was happening, that woman, the authoritative doctor who had so warmly assured me that they would take good care of me popped through the curtain. And asked how I was doing. Then she took out a marker and made a mark above the eye to be operated on. After a warm pat on my arm and calming words she moved on.

Then it was time for the surgery.  They wheeled me through some corridors to an operating room. The nurses and attendants were each very upbeat and talkative in response to my attempts at humor.

The medications were effective and had me feeling rather calm. However, I was surprised when two masked doctors approached and immediately began to work on me. I thought, “Wait a minute. Aren’t I supposed to be asleep, unconscious, and totally unaware of what was taking place?” It soon became apparent that I was going to lie there awake hearing the ongoing conversations between the two doctors as they proceeded with the surgery while describing each step they were taking.

As the two surgeons began working, I immediately recognized the confident voice of that woman, the one who was the leader at the DeBakey Eye Clinic. From the nature and tone of their technical conversation, it was clear she was the teacher and the young intern the student.

First, and very quickly, they replaced the lens. Then they stripped away defective tissue from the inner wall of the cornea. Next, I heard them discuss retrieving the donor tissue from the refrigerator. After inserting the tissue into the eye, she instructed the intern to unroll it and center it over the Iris. After smoothing it out against the freshly exposed back surface of the cornea, they injected a gas bubble into the eye to hold the graft firmly in place. It was done and they wheeled me back to a spot in that very large room of beds where I would begin the recovery.

Soon Judy was there and before long we were dismissed with strict instructions for the next 24 hours during which time I was to lay flat on my back until returning for follow-up the next day.

A blue plastic eye shield had been taped over the eye. That device would become the focus of a nightly bedtime ritual to manage the strips of tape that held it in place. Another important part of my recovery was putting various eye drops into the surgery eye.

Each day, I wondered when I would begin to regain vision in that eye. I never saw that intern surgeon again, the one who performed the surgery. Instead, I was seen by a very fit, athletic looking young woman named Doctor Martin. I tried but failed to stop myself from calling her Doc Martin, remembering the boots our daughter wore as a teen. She was obviously not amused as she’d heard it all before. But she was very pleasant and expressed concern about the condition of the grafted tissue.

So, she had the technicians use a special camera to view the graft. This examination revealed that the graft had not fully adhered to the surface. At that moment Doc Martin said, “We need to insert an air bubble into the eye to press the graft more firmly against the corneal wall”. I wondered how that could be done.

I followed Doc Martin back to the exam room which looks like any other optometrist room. Then she called a more senior doctor to assist her. She told me they could insert an air bubble right there in the exam chair. Judy was sitting in an office chair beside me.  We looked at each other nervously, wondering how this was going to go.

After what seemed like a long wait, the other doctor arrived. She looked to be in her 50s and brought an air of confidence into the situation. They told me to place my chin into that plastic cup that is a standard feature of optometry equipment. They asked me to remain very still as they came at me with a needle. But they paused for a minute to discuss the appropriate size or type of needle to use. I tried my best not to move but they continued to request that I keep my chin in the cup and not move as they manipulated the needle in my eye. Finally, Doc Martin said “There it is, good job” as she withdrew the needle and I felt  some fluid splash onto my cheek. There was no pain, just a very weird feeling to have a needle in my eye.

At this time my recovery was, in some ways, starting over. The coming weeks were a time of worry and concern about how this process would play out. Vision slowly began to return but was dim and blurred. Each follow-up appointment showed that my vision was improving but was still not real good. Then one day, about two months after surgery, I began to see some bright colorful patches of vision that felt like a breakthrough. From that point the vision in my right eye became better each day. I was amazed at how bright, colorful, and clear everything seemed. I began to ask the doctors when I would be scheduled to have the other eye done. They told me to be patient.

In July, a different intern began to see me for follow-ups. I was very impressed with this bright young woman. Based on her charming yet professional manner I got the impression that she must have always been the smartest kid in her classes. She looked very young, not flashy, but exuded the image of an attractive, confident professional.

She scheduled the surgery on my left eye for August 15, 2024. The preparation routine this time was like the first surgery. When the surgery started, again, two masked surgeons initiated the procedure by forcefully taping my head down to the table. Right away, I detected a difference in the interactions between the new Baylor intern surgeon and the older leading surgeon. This intern needed little direction and seemed more skillful and forceful than the first. One of the first steps, after taping my head down, was to insert a plastic device under the upper and lower eyelids. That sweet delicate intern wasn’t tentative. I felt the strength of her hands as she quickly pushed the device in place. On the previous occasion, the male intern had seemed to struggle a little inserting that plastic device used to keep the eyelids away from the eyeball.

During the procedure the intern needed very little input from the lead VA surgeon. The recovery and follow-up process went very smoothly. I think having had the first surgery already made this second one easier and less mysterious. Over the next couple of months, the vision in the left came back very well.

As my eyes fully healed, subsequent visual exams showed that I have 20/20 vision except for an astigmatism in my left eye that has always been there and not associated with the cornea. Now I only need glasses for reading after having worn thick glasses for years. Every day, I am reminded of just how fortunate I am to have had those cornea surgeries. Making this success even more meaningful is the fact that my father lost his right eye in a freak accident when he was 25 years old. That loss had a negative impact on his career and life.  But he adapted well and developed a new career path.

Disclaimer: This is a true story of my personal experience with Fuchs Dystrophy eye disease and the cornea transplant surgeries that corrected my vision.  I have no medical training.  My recollection of these events may be inaccurate due to the passage of time and the fact that I was under sedation during the procedures.

Tragedy In Heber Springs

It began as a lovely Friday in April, 1946 at Heber Springs, Arkansas.  Twenty six year old Viola Martin had baked a chocolate cake and two dozen oatmeal cookies earlier in the day. When husband Rufo returned to work on the Vincent Farm after a lunch of cornbread and beans with wild onions, she quickly washed up the dishes and took her two daughters on a walk to Spring Park, a short distance west from their small shotgun frame house on a sharecropper lot at Vincent Farms where Rufo had been employed since they moved down to Heber from Berryville a year earlier.  It was as sunny afternoon but Viola had the girls wear the sweaters that Grandma Walls had sent down from Green Forrest for Christmas.  There was a soft cool breeze from the south.  A mother never knew what to expect on a day in early April.

There were plans for a Saturday picnic at the park and fishing along the Little Red River.  Sunday dinner would be with local relatives after church.  Viola had caught, plucked and cleaned a chicken in the back yard, gathered some potatoes and onions from the cellar and taken a jar of green beans from the shelf that she had canned last summer.  Viola was well prepared for the weekend ahead. But this Friday afternoon had been too nice to be spent indoors with those energetic young girls.  Dolias was six and kid sister, Angelean, not quite three years old.

After an hour of fun in Spring Park, dark clouds gathered and a chill wind whipped up out of the northwest.  Viola called to the girls and coaxed them away from the teeter-totter where they were playing with some neighbor kids.  

Walking out of the park along the dirt road on the east end of town where Main Street bent northeast and became Wilburn Road, Viola saw a neighbor lady and stopped by the road to visit.  Suddenly a gust of wind blew Angelean’s red scarf off her head onto the road.  Angelean dashed onto the roadway after the scarf.  To Viola’s horror, a logging truck was baring down on Angelean.  Instinctively, Viola leapt out onto the road and threw Angelean back.  In doing so, Viola slipped and fell under the truck as it veered to avoid hitting her.  It was too late.  Viola lay crumpled in the road bleeding and covered in dirt.  The girls shrieked and cried.  The horrified neighbor called for her teenage son to run up to the Vincent Farm and find Rufo as she ran into her house to call an ambulance.

The ambulance from Estelle Hospital arrived 10 minutes later.  Dolais lay in the dirt beside the lifeless body of her mother,weeping inconsolably.  The neighbor lady held a trembling Angelean as others had gathered around aghast at the tragedy before them, some praying loudly, others screaming and weeping.  The truck driver was upset, pacing about and looking for solace himself.  The ambulance driver and his medic were not sure what to do.  Viola’s body was in such a twisted state that they were afraid to move her.  Red faced and bewildered, Rufo came running onto the scene.  He immediately gathered Viola up in his arms, crawled up into the ambulance with her, and commanded the driver to get them to the hospital.

At the hospital, nurses and a doctor worked to assess Viola’s condition.  Viola had suffered multiple fractures, lacerations, and head trauma.  Although the medical team did what they could, she never regained consciousness.  By the fourth day, infections and swelling of her brain had taken their toll.  On Tuesday morning, April 10, 1946, Viola Martin, a loving wife and mother, was pronounced dead at Estelle Hospital.  

Word was sent to Green Forest bearing the sad news to Viola’s family there as plans were being made with a Heber Springs funeral home and the family’s local Baptist pastor for her funeral and burial the following Friday afternoon.  After the services, a grief stricken Rufo was consoled by local friends and family as the Walls relatives offered to take the girls up to Green Forest in northwest Arkansas.  They felt this might help Viola’s grieving family to heal and would offer comfort to Dolias and Angelean while their father dealt with his personal loss and his own future.

The summer and fall of 1946 was a sad period of time for the two girls but Grandma Walls did her best to make them feel welcome in their mother’s home community and close knit family.  In time, Rufo met a somewhat younger woman, Helen Crawford.  She was attractive with black hair, brown eyes, and an enticing figure.  They were married in December, 1946 at White, Arkansas.   In Heber Springs, they rented an upstairs apartment in an old house across the street General Baptist Church.  Rufo and Helen enjoyed some time there as newlyweds.  Soon, Rufo longed to have Dolias and Angelean with him again in Heber Springs.  In April, 1947, just over a year after their mother’s death, Rufo drove 140 miles up to Green Forrest and brought the girls back home to Heber Springs.  Heading down Highway 65, the girls were very happy and looking forward to starting a new life with their father and his new wife.

It wasn’t long before that happy dream proved to be elusive.  The beauty and excitement Rufo had seen in Helen began to fade as Helen assumed the routine day to day role of housewife and step-mother of the two young girls.  

Dolias, about age 7, needed special attention due to physical and emotional conditions that had affected her for some time.  It is not certain if some of this was present at birth or if the severe fever she suffered around age two was the primary cause.  Dolias had beautiful dark eyes, natural curly hair, an olive complexion, and lovely full lips.  However, a spinal condition caused a slight hump high on her back.  This was often a source of teasing and insecurity for her and may have contributed to her frequent flashes of anger.

However, nearly 4 year old Angelean was a different story.  She was strong and energetic yet somewhat withdrawn, often playing quietly with a doll or a neighborhood kitten.  Local friends and relatives often commented about how much she had grown the past year and how she resembled her beautiful mother.  A child her age required a lot of supervision. Helen may have found it distracting to answer frequent questions of why to satisfy the rich curiosity of Angelean’s growing intellect. 

This disruption to their brief honeymoon life soon revealed the truly darker side of Helen’s personality.  She was no longer the center of attention in Rufo’s life.  In reaction to this change in status, Helen resorted instinctively by striking out against the one she felt most threatened by, the one with whom she fought for Rufo’s attention; Angelean.  Her resentment grew toward the child who reminded Rufo and others of the beloved mother and former wife to Rufo.  As her resentment grew, Helen began to dole out harsh punishments to Angelean for typical childhood behaviors.

At first the harshness was known only within the apartment while Rufo was at work.  Before long, Rufo began to feel the effects of Helen’s resentment when he was at home with the family.  He observed the insincere ritual that Helen demanded each night in which the girls were required to kiss her goodnight before going to bed.  He noted that on one occasion Helen was angry and refused to allow the goodnight kisses, sending them off to bed without a goodnight kiss.  To his dismay, Rufo soon heard Helen go to the girls’ bedroom to angrily spank and chastise them for not kissing her goodnight. Rufo also became the target of Helen’s angry outburstsand grew increasingly concerned at the mean spirited way she disciplined the girls for the slightest perceived misbehavior.

Soon the harsh discipline escalated into outright physical abuse.  Helen had lost control of her own emotions; leading her to beat the girls physically to such an extent that neighbors could hear what was going on.  The neighbors began to talk among themselves about the horrible things they were hearing from the Martin’s apartment.  One day a neighbor, by the name of Wincel Lacy, saw Angelean sitting in the yard under a tree. Mrs. Lacy went outside to check on Angelean and asked her to come inside out of the heat.  But Angelean told her no, that she had to sit right there and not get up.  Mrs. Lacy told Angelean it was okay and that she would see to it.  As they walked up onto the porch, Mrs. Lacy was shocked to see black and blue marks on Angelean’s legs.  This prompted what was likely the first time the abuse was reported to Rufo and to local authorities.  But it would not be the last.

Mrs. Hazel Jones, a neighbor and recent acquaintance of Helen, heard the angry voice of their step-mother chastising the girls almost daily.  The outbursts were often followed by the sounds of the girls being whipped.  The beatings were so loud at times that Mrs. Jones could hear them from her home, the second house away.

The abuse reached a critical point when Rufo arrived home from work one Saturday evening and found Angelean lying in bed with ablood stained bandage wrapped around her head.  Helen had boiled water and prepared a bath for Angelean.  But the water was steaming and Angelean, afraid of being burned, refused to get into the galvanized tub that sat on the kitchen floor.  Helen, who had been fixing supper, held the big hog knife in her hand.  In a fit of rage Helen swung the knife at little Angelean.  The sharp edge of the knife struck a glancing blow along the hairline separating a 3 inch portion of Angelean’s scalp from her skull.  Horrified and disgusted at this act of violence, Rufo demanded that Helen get out of the apartment and not return.  The permanent separation beganthe next day on Sunday, September 21, 1947. 

On October 6, 1947, Rufo filed for divorce from Helen in the Cleburne County Chaucery Court.  On the same date, Helen filed an Entry of Appearance and Waivers, determined not to submit to a deposition and requested she be restored to her former and maiden name of Helen Louise Crawford when the final decree would be entered.  The final divorce actions were completed on October 23, 1947.

With the help of his family and neighbors in Heber Springs, Rufo, Dolias, and Angelean experienced a brief holiday season as a small family unit that Christmas of 1947.  Finally there was peace on earth and peace at home. Another special woman appeared on their father’s arm soon after.  Rufo married Modean Jernigan on 1/22/1948.  This would be the beginning of a lasting and stable family.  Two years later, the family would add another daughter, Patsy.  The age difference between the two older girls and Patsy along with other family dynamics would see the girls’ lives move on in different directions.  But this new family unit was loving and strong, enduring through the many changes on the horizon.  

Rufo transitioned from sharecropping to retail operations when he went to work at Young’s Department Store in Heber Springs.  His military and C.C. Camp experience with store and supply management provided a solid foundation for the retail business he would pursue the rest of his life.  At last there was stability at home and the community was growing.  The scenic landscapes of historic Sugar Loaf would soon be transformed into one of Arkansas’ most popular recreation and tourist locations.  The beautiful Little Red River would be forever changed from the quiet fishing and boating stream long enjoyed by locals when construction of the Greer’s Ferry Dam began in 1959.  That project and the ensuing population growth would bring prosperity to Heber Springs and especially to the long suffering family of Rufo Martin.  In 1960, Rufo attained an important goal when he opened his own furniture store in town.  
This new status coupled with his natural leadership skills and supportive wife, provided a springboard that launched Rufo and Modean on the path to prominent community leadership roles.  

The new prosperity provided a much different school and life experience for Patsy.  She loved horses and was allowed to have one of her own.  She was very active, always on the go and popular at school, in church programs, and other social activities.

For Angelean, the transition of Rufo’s career was mainly a source of work and labor as she was expected to help him by working part-time.  When he started the furniture store, Angelean’s workload there became even more significant.  When she graduated from Heber Springs High School in 1961, she promptly went to Memphis and enrolled in Beauty College.  This would be her primary career work for many years before she parlayed her retail experience into a more rewarding career and her own business in the Pawn Shop industry.

Very soon after arriving in Memphis in 1961, Angelean fell in love and married.  To this brief marriage a daughter, Kim was born.  Her first marriage ended due to the husband’s mental illness. Her second marriage was to a man who liked to move frequently and often leave unsettled debts behind. They moved often during the early years but started a family.  There were two sons, Lance and Tommy.  Eventually the failure of her husband to consistently meet the financial and emotional needs of the family resulted in this marriage ending in divorce.  But Angelean’s strength of character, built through hard times of grief and abuse made her determined to make it on her own.  And she did just that. In time, she married a strong reliable man, Gene Fisher, who remained steady and loyal.

In Heber Springs, Dolias was well known by prominent professional families who relied on her kind steady nature and practical skills to provide child care and other household work.  Because of her sincere efforts in school, Dolias was allowed to walk with her graduating classmates and receive a complimentary certificate.  She later completed the GED certification.  Because she was ever dependent on the support of her parents, they too came to rely on her services at their home.  She cooked, cleaned and provided other important services for them in exchange for the shelter of their home and family support.

Sadly, in her late 30s, Dolias developed a form of cancer which would appear under the skin over various parts of her body and become horrible looking areas like dark moles.  Soon the cancer spread rapidly and took her life on 6/17/1978 at the age of 38.

As related to me by Angie Martin in 2021

James Middleton 

5/2/2021

Sophia - The Artist

Following are four photos to introduce artist, Sophia: 


1.) Sophia and Daira outside The Color Factory in Houston
2.) Sophia in The Color Factory
3.) Portrait of James Middleton with grandsons Karter Middleton and Dylan Bell
4.) Portrait of Daira Moreno-Lopez dressed in cultural costume of her mother's village

About the Artist:


Sophia Chung (AKA: Chung Yen Jung)


Born March 20, 1996 in New Taipei City, Taiwan


Sophia attended private schools, graduating from high school in 2014.  She then attended university where she earned a degree in Russian Language.  As a part of this degree she did an internship in Moscow one summer.  During that time she traveled to St. Petersburg and other places in Russia.  On a couple of occasions, she hitchhiked on highways in the Moscow area, finding the people there kind and receptive to that form of transportation.


At age 14, she traveled to New York City to attend a Summer session through the EF Language Education program and visited Disney World in Florida.  At the age of 16, she traveled to San Diego, California for another summer session with the EF Language Education program.  During that Summer she visited Disneyland. On other occasions she visited London, England and Barcelona, Spain.


In September, 2019, Sophia enrolled in the study of Illustration at SCAD, the Savannah College of Art and Design in Savannah, Georgia, U.S.A.  At SCAD, Sophia met fellow student Daira Moreno-Lopez of Huatulco, Oaxaco, Mexico and also of The Woodlands, Texas.  During the long winter break at SCAD, Daira invited Sophia to visit her home in The Woodlands.  


It was during this visit that Sophia became acquainted with the Middleton family, long time residents of The Woodlands and family friends of the Moreno-Lopez family.  When she learned of Sophia’s talent as an artist and her interest in painting during her time in Texas, Judy Middleton selected a recent photo that Sophia could use as the subject of her first painting.  As it happens, Judy had created a studio in the former bedroom of her son, Jon.  The studio was already outfitted with a good easel which Sophia found to be perfect for the job.


Daira’s mother, Nora Toledo-Lopez, shopped for paints, brushes, canvases, and other supplies with Sophia to make the studio ready for use.  Although the room was cramped due to hundreds of old family photos stored there, Sophia created a beautiful portrait of James Middleton holding grandsons Karter Middleton and Dylan Bell on his lap.  The photo was taken by Judy at the Guadalajara Mexican Grill in The Woodlands in November, 2019 when the family gathered there to celebrate Judy’s 70^th birthday.  


Sophia’s time in The Woodlands spanned the period of 11/15/2019 to 01/03/2020.


By: James Middleton  1/9/2020