​When the Missionary Bishop of Western Nebraska challenged his parents, "Name This Child," they replied "Lloyd Harris Ellis, Jr."

     There is no diminutive of "Lloyd." When "Harry" and "Junior" gave way to "Shortie" and "Smelly," a maternal grandmother intervened and named the infant "Sandy," because of the color of his hair.

    Home was always Colorado although the family spent more time in Syracuse, Buffalo, Westchester County, Dayton, and, during the war, Avon Park, Florida and Shaw Corners, South Carolina. There were a final two years in Denver before the hereditary occupational change in direction: the paternal Advertising Executive became a farmer and the family moved to Adams County, Nebraska. 

    Few things in twentieth century American life are as unattractive as being dirty and cold. An essay on why this made him want to leave the farm attracted the attention of Yale. The Army was also dirty and cold, but no barbed wire. 

     Finally graduating with two economics degrees there were two years in the then tropical paradise of Mozambique and two years in the eternal purgatory of Washington before abandoning the Foreign Service for a new career in medicine. The intent was to return to an Anglican Mission on Lake Niassa. When that was impossible because of the nationalist war, it was time to settle down in Cleveland with the Case Western Reserve Department of Surgery, University Hospitals, and the Cleveland Emergency Service. Case Western Reserve made the mistake of offering its faculty free tuition, nights of work, and days of sleep and study. The dissertation-monograph on Malangatana Ngwenya went nowhere: for the Africanists, Malangatana was too modern and for the modernists, Malangatana was too African. Ed Olszewski laid about fifteen projects out on the carpet of his living room: Il Riposo was worthwhile, publishable, and possible  (Thanks to Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio, sixteenth century Italian is close to twentieth century Portuguese.) 


Lloyd H. Ellis, Jr., M.D., Ph.D.