In the middle ‘50’s, I worked in the Crippled Children’s program in Tulare County. One of our chores was to visit the homes of our patients who attend the Conyer school in Visalia. One I will never forget was in a camp for farmworkers. Our little patient was bussed from the camp to Visalia every day. The Mother stayed home fromfield work to greet us, and the smell of beans cooking was prevalent as she opened the door of the barracxs where they lived. Our little patient had to share a bedroom with the other children in the family. There was no indoor plumbing—they had to walk about a city block along a dusty path to the bathrooms and showers. No wonder she came to school dirty! Both of us who made the call were much more understanding, and arranged to help our little girl with hygiene when she arrived at school;. We also becam;e avid supporters of Caesar Chavez and his mission.