Florence Ruth Nudelman Kornblatt

My name is Florence Nudelman Kornblatt.  I was born and raised in Scranton, PA.  When I graduated from high school in January, 1943, I took a job at a clothing factory making servicemen’s uniforms, unsure whether I would have sufficient funds to continue my education.  I saved enough for my first year of school and   enrolled in the Hahnemann Hospital School of Nursing at the end of the summer. 

I enlisted in the nurse cadet corps as soon as the program was initiated.  The educational benefit made it possible for me to continue my education with certainty that the necessary financial resources were in place.  

Our class was the first in our area to take our pre-clinical training on a college campus.  I will never forget the pride and joy I felt when I put on my uniform and realized I was officially a part of the war effort.  I was serving to protect and care for my country and those who had been wounded in our defense.  I was prepared to go whenever and wherever I was needed for as long as I was needed. 

In the winter of 1946, the last 6 months of my training were spent on the Turtle Mountain Indian Reservation in Belcourt, ND.  I worked with the Chippewa Indians. Two other students in my class were assigned to veterans’ hospitals closer to home.  I was a small town girl who had never traveled alone; certainly not on a solo trip cross-country by train.  When I arrived, it was 20 degrees below zero.  I remember the ambulance that picked me up was an old station wagon. 

There were two physicians on staff and they rotated admissions. Nurse cadets from other parts of the United States were arriving daily.  During my time of service, one of the physicians became ill and we all assumed more responsibility until another physician could be assigned.  We did whatever was necessary to maintain patient care with no lapse in service.  

After graduation in 1946, I married and continued to work to supplement our family’s income.  In 1962, my husband passed away and I had to support and educate my two children. My nursing profession became a lifeline for my children and me.  I continued to use my skills after retirement, volunteering with hospice as an ombudsman, a trainer, and a lecturer.

I am now 87 years old.  It pains me to know that my service and those of my fellow cadets has never been acknowledged.  I don’t know how many of us are still alive, but I feel we deserve this recognition.