State Police dedicate helipad in honor of troopers’ doc
By Jeffrey Page |
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Capt. Stephen Nevins, commander of the State Police barracks in Monroe, greets Dr. Jerome Quint during the dedication Saturday of a helipad in Quint’s honor. The doctor’s granddaughter, Lexi Kessler, also was on hand.
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MONROE - “He routinely makes miracles happen,” a State Police commander said of Dr. Jerome Quint during a ceremony to dedicate the new helipad in Quint’s honor.
Quint, 72, though retired from his private practice in Warwick, remains assistant division physician of the State Police, which is a fancy way of saying he’s the troopers’ doc.
Could Capt. Stephen Nevins, the commander of the State Police barracks in Monroe, have exaggerated about Quint’s miracles? Not if you looked around at the 200 guests last Saturday and noticed that far more than a few were nodding in agreement.
And certainly not if you talked with Winston Martindale, a very grateful man who understands better than most the relationship between Quint and miracles.
“I was a brand new trooper two weeks on the job,” Martindale said. “I was on my way to work one day when I got this terrible pain in my gut. It was like someone punched me in the stomach.”
He was taken to Horton Memorial Hospital in Middletown. He began sinking fast. Doctors recommended he be transferred to Westchester Medical Center where he could be seen by specialists, but were told there was no room there.
The troopers called Quint who called a friend on the Westchester staff, a gastrointestinal surgeon. A bed was found and Martindale was flown to Valhalla.
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| Dr. Jerome Quint is flanked by members of the State Police at the Monroe barracks last Saturday during ceremonies dedicating a helipad in recognition of Quint’s work as the assistant division physician of the State Police and his love of flying.
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Martindale had to stop, perhaps momentarily lost in a private memory too terrible to say out loud. Then: “They gave me a 10 percent chance to live.”
Lousy odds for a man who had spent 17 years in the military with hardly a sick day. The surgery - to repair a badly perforated bowel - was performed by Quint’s friend. It lasted several hours and then Martindale was placed in a medically induced coma for about three weeks. It would take nine months to recover and get back to work.
“The thing I’ll always remember is that Dr. Quint turned out to be a person, not just a doctor,” Martindale said. “He started coming to my house to talk to me. He sat at the edge of my bed - like my dad. He reassured my family.”
And when Quint wasn’t at Martindale’s house, he was on the phone with the new trooper and his family. “Just checking in, just making sure I was OK. He stays in touch to this day,” Martindale said.
‘He always came through for us’
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There have been many Quint miracles.
Nevins recalled the day four years ago when a captain, Pat Regan, was in a horrific bicycle accident in Ulster County and informed by emergency room doctors that he would have to lose a severely injured finger. No, said Quint who then contacted another specialist-friend who in turn arranged for Regan’s transfer to Arden Hill Hospital in Goshen where his finger was saved.
Nevins told of Trooper Peter Casella’s being shot after stopping a car on Route 17. “A trauma surgeon was unavailable to attend immediately,” Nevins said.
Again, the State Police reached out for Quint. His wife, Terry, said he had gone to the bank. A trooper was sent to Warwick to find him and they raced to Arden Hill. “He operated on Pete, removing four bullets,” Nevins said, noting that Casella was among the dedication crowd.
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Quint’s dealing with police officers and firefighters goes back to the late Sixties when he was a surgical resident at Lincoln Hospital in the Bronx. Shootings and stabbings were fairly common. Occasionally it was a cop who got shot.
“It was important to me to treat them with courtesy and respect,” Quint said a day after the dedication. “Actually I could sum it up in one sentence: To me, it’s a privilege to take care of heroes.” And cops and firefighters, by the very nature of their work, are heroes, he said.
His relationship with city police extended north when he moved to Orange County, where many New York City cops live. Then the relationship grew to include state troopers. “It’s a very tight community of police up here,” Quint said.
When reminded of the kind words for him at the dedication, he said, “Look, I shouldn’t get points for doing something that makes me feel good. I love these guys, and I love helping them.”
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Since his retirement, Quint engages another love - flying helicopters and airplanes. But he also spends a fair amount of time talking with some former patients.
“They find it hard to maneuver in the [health care] system these days,” Quint said. “So they might get treated. But maybe the doctor doesn’t have a lot of time to talk with them and they wind up not knowing as much about their condition as they should. They call, we talk, I try to explain things.”
At the helipad ceremony, more than a few troopers said they had used Quint as their family physician. “When a member’s son was in dire need of a heart transplant several years ago, Dr. Quint contacted colleagues in New York City who made sure the finest team was available,” Nevins said. “The surgery was successful.”
“I needed recommendations for specialists,” said Jim Quinn, a retired trooper, as he recalled the cancer that was diagnosed in a loved one. “He came through. He always came through for us,” Quinn said. “He’s just a super nice man.”
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‘It’s just about love’
Saturday was payback time.
For 30 years, emergency helicopter takeoffs and landings occurred on an uneven field next to the State Police barracks. Recently, arrangements were made to change the grassy patch into something more level, more substantial, a paved concrete pad.
How better to honor Quint - himself a licensed helicopter pilot - than to dedicate the landing site to him?
Quint arrived as a passenger in a State Police helicopter, shook hands and hugged everyone who approached. After some other speakers, Nevins asked Quint and his wife Terry to step up and unveil the monument near the helipad.
As the white and purple cloths fell off and revealed his name in large letters on the heavy brass plaque - “ … for the many lives he has saved, his untiring dedication to the State Police and his love of flying …” - Quint drew back slightly as his mouth formed the shape to utter “Oh!”
Nevins handed him the microphone but Quint seemed at a loss.
“I love the guys. It’s just about love,” he finally said. “I’m blown away by this. I’m speechless.”
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