Written By: Faustino Bernadett
My greatest inspiration was my father. His parents were from Chihuahua Mexico. They immigrated to Michigan to pursue a better life. There, my father was born. He grew up to live a life in service to others. He moved to Chico California where he was the only Spanish-speaking family doctor in town. He was as dedicated to his community as he was to his family of seven children. That meant that his practice was always busy and that sometimes he was paid with tamales, chili or chickens. We learned early in life that those special gifts often had greater value than could be measured monetarily. His commitment to the Mexican American community in Chico was no less than his commitment to the international community when he left his young family for months to volunteer in Vietnam. There he provided medical care for the Montagnard people caught in the crossfire of war between the North and South Vietnamese and American soldiers. These memories are especially poignant to me because I was left as the young man of the house at age 12. I remember the responsibility of filling his Large shoes.
When he returned, he continued to serve his community locally and the international community large. For 14 years he flew to a small village Norogachi in Mexico for two weeks each year. Tarahumara would come from Miles and wait in Long line sometimes for days to see my dad. At age 14 I traveled with my dad and had my first surgical experience removing a large nail from the foot of a Tarahumara. Previously the patient was unable to walk. Now the patient was eternally grateful, and I was hooked on medicine. For many it was the only time they saw a doctor each year. He did this on his own, without hoopla and nonprofit organization sponsorship. He was not without a sense of humor and humility. His trips ended after his plane crashed. Nobody was injured seriously, but a few suffered lacerations from broken bottles of beer being transported for the local nuns.
My father, Faustino Bernadett Sr. M.D., was also a dedicated teacher. He served as a preceptor to family medicine residents and students at UC Davis and worked at Clinica Tepati. In order to spend more time with his family and accommodate his busy practice, he flew a small plane to teach. It was on a stormy night, returning home from UC Davis that his plane crashed, and his life here ended. I was devastated!
He touched a great Many lives and inspired many family, doctors and others in his short lifetime. The Family medicine medical library at UC Davis was dedicated to his memory.
Now I have the opportunity two generations after graduating from UC Davis to continue to honor his commitment to family and to local and international communities. It is my hope that the scholarship will assist and inspire Spanish-speaking medical students to see their families and community as my father saw his- with love, commitment, and a never ending sense of curiosity, humility, and fulfillment that came from the joy of every day life and service to others. This was his legacy.
