Dr James McDowall. He was a sole practitioner working out of his study at home. It was one of those Edwardian houses with a square hall and we all sat in there waiting to be called into the inner sanctum.
As per his name, he was a Scot and could be dour with it. When one of our neighbours went to see him with concerns about falling hair, his response was to say "What are you worrying about? You can get a wig on the National Health!"
Despite that, he could be very kind. He came out on Christmas morning when I had measles as a three year old, and he took me to hospital wrapped in a blanket in the back of his car when I had appendicitis as a nine year old, and visited without being asked to when he knew I was out of hospital the following week.
When I looked him up on Ancestry some time ago, I was surprised to find that he graduated only twenty or so years before I knew him, so would have been, from where I am now, still a relatively young man, although he seemed old and serious to me.
