Robert Doizier was a man worth knowing. Let me tell you a couple of stories.
In the spring of 1954, when I was almost 15, I took the job of drugstore delivery boy. Well, truth is, I was really much more important than just being a boy delivering prescriptions on a bicycle. I was a delivery boy/clerk/soda jerk/duster/sweeper/mopper.
After I had worked there a few months, the owner retired and sold the store to another man. I usually don’t give names but, for this man, I will. The new owner’s name was Robert Dozier.
Mr. Dozier, along with his wife and two children lived in the apartment over the store.
As I’ve said before, Robert Doizier was a man worth knowing. I’ll tell you why.
Story 1
One evening, I picked up a package of 3 or 4 prescriptions to deliver. As I was walking out the door, I noticed something and I walked back into the store.
I said, “Mr. Dozier, I think you made a mistake.”
“What’s that?”
“All of those prescriptions and it’s only 79 cents.”
He thought for a minute and said, “Let me explain something to you, son. That woman is a very old lady and she has very little money. I would charge her nothing except that would insult her.”
I learned something that night.
Story 2
This little story is much more personal and happened while I was in the Air Force.
My mother was quite ill. It was very late and Daddy called my sister, Winona. Winona arrived at my home at about 2:00 AM. Mama had forgotten to refill a prescription she badly needed.
Winona called Mr. Dozier.
At that time of the morning, Mr. Dozier answered my sister’s call. He dressed, went downstairs to the store, and filled the prescription.
My sister lived ten miles or so from my parent’s home and a large drugstore was close to Winona’s home. After that episode, whenever Winona needed a drugstore, she drove all the way in to Mr. Dozier’s store.
Story 3
This story is in a lighter vein.
When I was somewhere around forty years old, I had occasion to be in Huntington, West Virginia. I decided to drop in to see Mr. Dozier.
Mr. Dozier always had a sense of humor, so I decided to test him.
He was doing something at the drug counter and was looking down. In a very low voice, I said, “I hear you sell drugs here.”
When Mr. Dozier looked up, if looks could kill, I would have been dead.
He glared at me. It had been a long time since I had seen him but, after a couple of seconds, he recognized me. All he could do was laugh.
Before I left him, Mr. Dozier and I had a long and delightful conversation.
In Conclusion
I could tell you many more stories of this nature. But those stories pretty much exemplify Mr. Dozier’s character.
As I said in the beginning, Robert Dozier was a man worth knowing.
