It took me almost 64 years, but I finally found this handsome young fella last night. This is Dykes Johnson, Taft Union High School ’27, Stanford University BS, University of Louisville M.D., Taft Union High School Hall of Fame.

He passed away in 1996. Damn it.

I was born on January 25, 1952, when I should’ve been arriving some time around Washington’s birthday. Dykes was our family doctor in Taft. He was a flying enthusiast–he’d also served in the Navy as a doctor during the War–and was gone to the other end of a Valley on some kind of fly-in.

When Dad took Mom to the hospital, things weren’t going so well. Dad was scared. I was about to make my appearance (or not) when Dykes burst through the door, which almost hit my Dad in the face.

Dykes, I guess, was a blunt man, and especially that night. “Get the hell out of here!” he told my father. “Something’s wrong.”

He’d flown back down to Taft. He’d had a hunch.

I was not only a preemie–four pounds–but the cord was wrapped around my neck and I was blue. I’d stopped breathing.

Meet the man who saved my life