Journey of an American Immigrant: A Memoir

By Sam Sampath M.D.

Before he was a military man or a respected doctor, Sam Sampath was a high school student writing an essay on a family-oriented theme. As he sat and wrote, he imagined himself as the patriarch of his family, just like his own father. He imagined that like his father, he had two sons, and he named them Deepak and Rajesh because they sounded like good and appealing names. In Journey of an American Immigrant, he looks back at how he and his wife, Sulochana (which in their Indian language means “one with beautiful eyes”) made his high school dream a reality by working hard and loving each other. He also looks back at his life from a boy in India to his military service and education at home and overseas—as well as the journey his family ultimately made to the United States of America. Another central theme is his work in India and in the United States as a doctor, which he continues to this day at age eighty.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Jan 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9781483488714

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M.D.

Copyright © 2018 Sam Sampath, M.D.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-8872-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-8873-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-8871-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018952276

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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Lulu Publishing Services rev. date:   11/30/2018

Dedication

My inspiration to pen this book comes from the combined experiences of the thousands, who left their homeland to find a new abode in this great nation called the United States of America.

Throughout this journey, our guiding light has been our beloved parents, Captain Srinivas Mudaliar and Ganga Bai and Mr. P.V. Tholasiram and Kannammal. Their selfless sacrifice made us who we are today. This book is dedicated to their loving inspiration and memory.

Foreword

A question is often asked of men who have accomplished extraordinary feats in life as whether a great man is also good man? What I take this to mean is that while they have achieved great things such as pioneers whose vision transformed their respective fields or industry, they have often done so with ruthless conviction devoid of humility and selflessness or respect for their fellow human being. When I ask the same question of my father, however, I am pleased to say without hesitation that he is not only a great man but also a good man. A great man that has dedicated his life to tirelessly and selflessly serving his fellow mankind by caring for patients through his craft of medicine or serving his country honorably as a proud officer of the United States Army. A good man for not doing so for wealth, fame or recognition but rather in order to provide for his family to ensure that they would have a better life for themselves than he had. A great man for having the courage and conviction to leave his motherland of India to pursue his training and career in medicine in a foreign country whether it was the United Kingdom or the United States. A good man because he chose to sacrifice his own ambition and desire to continue to serve his county as an Indian Army officer, so his sons would have greater opportunities to pursue a better education and their dreams in this great land we call the United States of America. My father embodies all the virtues that in my mind makes a man great and good: courage, ambition, discipline, conviction, patience, respect for one another, compassion, selflessness and, most importantly, humility. These salient characteristics of this great man have laid the foundation for my own character and, as a result, provide the wind beneath my wings. I am forever grateful that I have my father as a shining example and beacon to illuminate my path in life. As you read his memoir entitled Journey of an American Immigrant you will come to realize that, yes, Dr. Srinivas Sampath, M.D. is indeed a great and good man.

Your loving son,

Deepak Sampath, Ph.D.

When one ponders the mystery of life, one often thinks of first what the biblical commandment says - ‘Honor thy mother and thy father.’ We honor our parents for bringing us into the world to share in the mystery of life and to be thankful for all they have done in bringing us in to the world and then to bring us up to become the men my brother and I have become. I write this Forward in great admiration of my father’s life work.

He is a testament to self-sacrifice, quiet conviction, steady consistency, and indomitable spirit of the will: he has worked harder and still does today more than anyone I know. And he is 80 years old. He does it for family, community, and country- first in India and for the last 48 years as a proud patriot of the U.S. He brings the finest dedication down to the smallest of details in his mastering his craft of medicine, which he serves humbly day in and day out, treating each patient child as if they were unique and special and deserving of all his attention. He never waivers and can do more in one hour what most people need a week to accomplish, which also means he does more than anyone else. My dad has always been a public servant opting to work for the state instead of private practice, and then after acquiring his citizenship he realized his passion: to serve in the U.S Army, an act of sacrifice that most new immigrant groups do not think to do. With his dedication and perseverance having been called up twice from the reserves to full-time deployment in 1991 Iraq-Kuwait and then 1996 Bosnia-Serbia, he reached the rank of colonel. I have never quite expressed it explicitly to him as I was still a young man at the time, but looking back I can’t measure my pride for having a father of such dedication and accomplishment to fighting for our democratic values and protecting the world from the evil of dictatorships. My father is a sterling example of someone we should all aspire to be: to work without need for public recognition; to understand that money is the fruit of labor not to be pursued for its own sake but only to continue to support the work we do for the greater good of humanity; to take every moment seriously and with full conviction to get the job done right; and to never complain about the burdens put on one when serving family, country, and the world.

And now as he comes full ‘circle’ he has passed down this treasure of his book recording his and our family’s history, echoing the cherished words of my grandfathers: his father spoke of dedication, hard-work and devotion and my mom’s father spoke of the focus and the courage of conviction. I can definitely say that my father embodies both sets of values and has passed that down to me and my brother. With my mom’s unbounded imagination and fearlessness to accomplish great things and my dad’s unwavering discipline to work hard and with pride (not for recognition) but for the task at hand, my brother and I continue to aspire to achieve great things in life because we both love what we do, and not the outcomes of achievement such as money, fame, and recognition. So, as we reflect on our dad’s 80-year journey, admiring how much has done, beginning with his most humble of origins and then as he nears the sunset of that journey, we say that he has instilled in us that undefinable value of humility combined with work and dedication. This is the reason why we human beings not only live but how we should love. Yes, our father has shown us the truth of what it means to be a human being—to be compassionate, to care, and to serve. He has the ‘eye of the tiger’ but one that cultivates virtue on how we must serve those around us. I tell friends and colleagues that my dad is the most ethical person I know. What do I mean by that? I mean someone who never waivers from his principles, always does things honestly and for the truth, and never compromises his conviction to do what is right rather than to cut corners or take credit for things one does not do. My dad does not even take credit for his amazing accomplishments- that is his silent humility and highest virtue. His actions speak louder than words. To completely absorb oneself in one’s labor and to become one with it actually means that rare individuals like my father achieve a certain level of steadiness and consistency that few people can.

So, in closing, and I know I speak on behalf of my brother too, we are grateful for this shining example that my father and his life have provided. Admirable, decent, honest, and you ‘did it your way.’ We can only try to approximate your level of greatness, a term you yourself would not admit to. But that is why we are writing this forward- so we can attest to all you are, a gift to us, mom, extended family, community, our country, and the world.

Your loving and devoted son,

Rajesh Sampath, Ph.D.

011rt.jpg

The year was 1940.

He was three years of age.

His Mom called him Sampu.

His Papa would say Sam-pu.

To his friends he was just plain Sam.

That name stayed with him

for the next seventy-seven years.

As you open this book,

you will read, page by page,

the journey of his life.

Chapter 1

Looking back

It was New Year’s Eve, December 31st, 1968. I was in Bombay (Mumbai) airport taking a midnight flight to London. It was really a flight into the known and unknown. I knew that I had to pursue my graduate program in medicine. The unknown was how I would reach my goal. It was pitch dark as I walked down the tarmac to board the Air India flight to London. I turned back and waved to my family. Although I could not see them, I knew they were there on the balcony waving back. I knew Suloch my wife was there with our son Deepak (we called him Babu and at times Tojo). Ours was an arranged marriage. A mutual family friend started the process. I came home on vacation in November 1966 from army duty in Bhopal. We lived in Kasturba Nagar, Adyar in Madras (Chennai). Gandhinagar was the neighboring colony and Suloch’s home was there, less than a mile away. She was completing her master’s in psychology at Presidency College. What is the difference between Psychology and Psychiatry? was my first question to her. I am not sure how she replied. I was engrossed in trying to get a look at her as she calmly sat on a moda (Indian cane stool). It was not an easy task with the eyes of her family set on me. Her name Sulochana in our Indian language means One with beautiful eyes. She certainly caught my eye with her beautiful face and natural good looks. She was very pretty (and she still is today). I was not sure what she thought of an average looking fellow like me. My prompt response was Yes. As I sat in the balcony of my house with my parents, my thoughts were Would she say no? They were supposed to come that evening and give their response. But there was a delay. As time went by, I was giving up hope. But at about 8 PM their car was in our yard and her brother Selvaraj came with a positive response. That was truly the most significant turning point in my life.

It was past midnight and the new year 1969 was toasted by the flight crew of Air India with orange juice. My thoughts were still on the balcony of Bombay airport – my family and homeland, which I was leaving for an uncertain future. Yes, my homeland India was getting further and further away as we flew West.

My childhood days were still vivid in my mind. I was born in Bangalore in the state of Mysore, now called Karnataka, on 28 April 1937 in my great grandfather’s house. Dr. Rajagopal Mudaliar was his name and he was a busy physician in his days, the early 20th century in Bangalore. He had five sons and three of them became medical doctors. My grandfather, Ekambaram Mudaliar was his second son. He was the manager of a store called Arts and Crafts in Bangalore. My mother Gangabai was his eldest daughter and was 28 years old at the time of my birth. I was her fourth child following sister Kannu (Vijaya), sister Chandra and brother Mani. The fifth and youngest sister Baby (Prema) was born in 1940. My father, Dr. Srinivas Mudaliar, was an army doctor in the Indian Army Medical Corp (IAMC). His had an interesting and illustrious career. He was born in Belgaum, a city in Maharashtra and Karnataka border. He went to medical school with an army scholarship in Poona. The First World War was ravaging all over and he had to complete his medical studies on board a ship as he sailed to Mesopotamia (Iraq). He was only 22 years old. I still remember him saying how he was camped between the Tigrus and the Euphrates rivers in a war-torn country, treating patients in trenches and bunkers. Hard work and dedication to his profession was his motto. I could not recollect a day when he would tell me what to do. It was by example that he guided me. I owed so much to him in principle. This must be an air pocket in flight, with a sudden drop in altitude. A sickening feel in the stomach as the fasten seat belt sign flashes. Fortunately, it is brief, and I continue to ponder and reflect.

My parent’s marriage was interesting and quite romantic. It was my mother who had given me all the details more than once. She was only about 15 years of age and Papa (that is what we called our father) was already known to her family. His sister, Radhabai, was married to my mother’s uncle (Chithappa, a doctor, who unfortunately passed within a year). My mother must have fallen for my father when he came to visit his sister in his army uniform. He was about 14 years older than her. Obviously, that did not seem