ABSTRACT

I met the very first psychiatric patient of my career, “Miss Anne Jones,” in September 1962. It was late to start a residency because I had taken a couple of months off to have a baby. Anne Jones, a single mother from a Detroit suburb, voluntarily signed herself into the University of Michigan hospital, stating “If you don’t stop me I’m going to kill my child!” I believed her. Not only did she threaten her 5-year-old girl, Wendy, but as a new mother, she also threatened me.