A Visit With Mrs.

Elizabeth Erickson
Jeisyn Murphy, MA
The house seemed so much smaller than what I had constructed in my mind. As I
parked the car and began clearing my head I thought of many of the people that I
knew that had been to the Hayward Avenue addressthe home of Dr. and Mrs. Milton
Erickson since 1970. It was July 24th, 2003 and twenty-three years since Milton
Erickson had last viewed the corner house lot.
It was 2:00 p.m. and we had arrived at our appointed time. My colleague, David, and I
approached the front entrance of the residence. I noticed various kinds of plants, in
particular a row of cacti that lined the porch. Immediately we heard fierce barking. Mrs.
Erickson owned two Manchester Terriers and although we couldnt see them yet, we
would later discover that they looked like miniature Doberman Pincers. She quickly
opened the door and told us to wait a moment, then closed it to herd Thunder Heart
and Charlene to the backyard. The dogs were excited and so was I.
Mrs. Erickson returned to the door and opened it allowing me to open the screen. I
stepped in, shook her hand and said, Its a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Erickson. Im
Jeisyn. Murphy, isnt it? she said as she took my hand. Yes, thats right, I said,
surprised that she would recall my last name. She shook my hand with an unusual
amount of pressure placed on the lower part of my wrist with her right forefinger. It was
remarkably noticeable. Her twinkling blue eyes made direct eye contact with mine as
she welcomed us into her home. I felt immediately at ease.
Im going to show you some things in this room and then well walk out to Dr.
Ericksons office. It is exactly as it was when he was alive. She spoke with careful
enunciation and it was obvious that she had decided on a particular agenda. At the
same time she had a gingerly tone to her voice that indicated there might be some
delightful adventures in store for us. Now Dr. Erickson loved wood carvings, she said
enthusiastically.
She directed our attention to several iron-wood carvings of many different animals that
were on shelves in her TV room. She viewed them with as much interest as if she, too
were seeing them for the first time. Mrs. Erickson told us that a trader with the Seri
Indians always made his first stop at Ericksons house when he learned how interested
Milton was in wood carvings. When the trader visited, he and Milton would sit out on
the porch and talk about the Seri and their carvings for quite awhile. I looked outside
and could see the row of cacti on her porch. Mrs. Erickson said, Milton planted those
himself. He would just break off a piece and stick it in the ground and it would grow.
She commented on him growing up on the farm in Wisconsin and that he enjoyed
planting very much, especially cacti.
It wasnt long before we were back to talking about the iron-wood carvings. I had just
noticed one of his bolo ties displayed on a shelf when Mrs. Erickson told me to pick
one of carvings up and notice how heavy they were. I went over to a basketball size
carving of an Octopus. The wood was a deep brown color and very smooth to touch. I
was quite surprised when I tried to lift the carving. It must have weighed nearly 50 lbs.
Mrs. Erickson went on to say that she pointed out to the trader how many of the Seri
carvings were of wild animals and not domesticated. On his next visit he brought her a
carving of a dog with a bird in his mouth. I said that a dog with a bird in his mouth
didnt seem very domesticated. She replied, Well yes he is. Hes gone and caught a
bird and brought it back for us to see. Hes very proud. I had to agree with her, he did
look proud.
She offered to show us her living room, that there were more wood carvings and other
things we should see. As we were passing her TV I noticed three 5 figurines from Star
Trek. I asked her, Are these yours? Do you like Star Trek? Oh yes, Milton and I
watched Star Trek, but the old television series, you know. I still enjoy it very much. I
saw these in a magazine and ordered them. I was quite struck with how real to life they
are. Wharf, Data and Captain Picard stood facing the West poised and ready for
action. We moved along.
In order to get to the living room we would have to pass through the kitchen. This
meant we would encounter Thunder and Charlene. They had been put out in the
backyard earlier but now were barking even more urgently as if they were convinced
Mrs. Erickson had strangers in her house that she was unaware of. No coaxing would
help. We could let them in. Theyve never bitten anyone, she said. I told Mrs.
Erickson that I had three dogs and would be quite comfortable. She seemed relieved
and allowed the dogs to come inside. They sniffed and chortled and continued to warn
her of whatever it was they thought was dangerous. I knelt down and began to pet
Thunder (her older, male Terrier). He stopped barking and took to the affection and
attention quite readily. Mrs. Erickson commented that he was the smarter dog and
caught on to what was happening around him much faster than Charlene, who was
nervously checking David and me out. I was enjoying playing with the dogs and curious
about what we would see in Mrs. Ericksons living room but there was a nagging
curiosity about what would it be like to stand in Milton Ericksons office. I stood up and
looked toward the living room. There was something on the wall that I recognized.
Mrs. Erickson noticed that I was already peering into the living room and we began
walking towards it together. I pointed to a scene on the wall over a couch and said, I
know the story behind that. She smiled and said, Yes, that is a wood carving that was
made by an artist who was a patient of my late husbands. It was a piece crafted with
wood about 3 X 4 of Mrs. Erickson as a young mother cradling a baby in her hands
with four other children surrounding them. She commented, Those are my five natural
children. My late husband had three of his own from a previous marriage that he had
sole custody of when we married. The ones in the carving are mine. I had heard that
Dr. Erickson had a patient who was an artist and had lost three of his fingers on his right
hand in an accident. While the man was in the hospital Erickson sent a message to him
saying that he should rest and recoverthat when he was released, Erickson would
make very sure that he be would able to keep making art out of wood. And not only
that but that Erickson would teach him to shake someones hand in such a way that
they would never know he was missing three fingers.
We continued to move around the living room with Mrs. Erickson as she showed us
various items that were of importance to Milton, including a bowl that he had someone
carve out and that he, himself, had smoothed and finished. I put my finger inside the
bowl and gently traced circles starting in the center and moving out toward the edges.
Not a single bump was in the bowl. Milton had polished it thoroughly.
Next we turned and faced the sliding glass windows that framed the backyard and
apartment house. Both Thunder and Charlene were calm now and followed along
behind us. Mrs. Erickson pointed to a very large Palo Verde tree that was in the center
of her backyard. She said that this tree was Dr. Ericksons favorite kind of tree and that
he would sit under it during the day to relax. She mentioned that these trees were very
brittle and usually were reduced in size by the desert winds. This one however was
protected on all sides either by fences or houses and was able to grow twice the size of
most Palo Verde trees. She said that she had recently seen a picture of the largest Palo
Verde tree in Arizona and claimed that she and her son Robert both feel hers is larger
but that she didnt want busloads of curious people coming over to see it. It was clear
though, that she didnt mind opening her home to us so that we could have a glimpse
of her life with Milton Erickson.
We made our way out to the backyard with both dogs following behind us. As I walked
closer to the Palo Verde I decided to stand underneath it. I thought about Milton and
how he must have felt sitting under its green canopy of branches that were stark
against the blue Arizona sky. Mrs. Erickson was mentioning that one of the large
branches had snapped off and that Robert was planning on moving it out of the way
the coming weekend, but I was caught between time for an endless moment. I could
feel the hot, dry air on my skin, see a latticework of green branches laced like a ribbon
with the blue sky above my head and I was listening to Mrs. Ericksonthe world came
to a stop. And just a few feet from me was Ericksons office, a place where countless
people experienced their own world changing before their eyes. Mrs. Erickson was
moving on to the pomegranate bush by the apartment house entrance. She was telling
us about how she had made jelly out of the fruit and that Milton both liked the flavor of
the pomegranate and the fact that one of their plants was producing food. He really
took delight in accomplishing more than one thing at once.
The apartment house was both a residence and Ericksons office space. One of his
granddaughters was living in the residence for the summer and signs of life were
abundant. Mrs. Erickson led us past a beige, accordion-like divider and I felt that I had
been transported back in time. It could have been 1979 or 1980. A light layer of dust
blanketed everything. I recognized a black and white Indian-made rug, some paintings,
and certificates I had seen in videotapes and pictures. There was a tall bookshelf that
contained titles of various subjects that I could now read: hypnosis, psychology,
medicine, and even science fiction. This room served as a lobby and a space for larger
groups of people that would listen to Dr. Erickson lecture. The door to Ericksons
smaller office was partly opened. David and I followed Mrs. Erickson.
This office was approximately a 15 X 10 sized room. Although it was small it had four
chairs and a desk in it. One of the chairs was a rolling chair situated at Dr. Ericksons
desk. The other was a smooth, green chairthis was the clients chair. Whether it was a
private session or in a group, Erickson had the person he was working with (at least
directly) sitting in this chair. And there was a chair to the right of the green chair. Mrs.
Erickson sat down in the green chair while David and I looked about the room. She
looked pleased to see us take so much interest in his office. She talked about many
objects, one of the most meaningful was a leather-bound set of the Encyclopedia
Britannica. Many years ago, Dr. Erickson wrote an article on hypnosis that was
published in that encyclopedia, she said in a dignified tone. The set had three
volumes. The middle volume had a small, white piece of paper surrounding it that
read: This set belongs to Robert Erickson. July 23, 2003. Mrs. Erickson had given the
set to her son, Robert, but he wanted to leave them displayed in the library for others
to enjoy. Looking around the office again I took in as much as I could. In one corner of
the room stood Dr. Ericksons cane. On the walls were various awards that he was
obviously proud to display: a famous historical document framed in glass, and on
shelves and his desk stood more iron-wood carvings. There was another bookshelf that
included similar categories and authors (including Asimov) but with additions: there
were some books on language, historical books, some American classics and even
comic books.
It seemed to me that the occurrence of the color purple increased as we moved from
the TV room, through the living room and into the apartment house. I noticed a purple,
handmade Octopus lying on Ericksons desk. Its still black eyes were staring at the
ceiling (not unlike many of the patients that once sat in that office) and on the wall to
the left of his desk hung an abstract purple painting. I sat down next to Mrs. Erickson
and inquired about these items. She said that many patients made Erickson gifts that
he liked and some of them he used as teaching tools. She said that Milton had a color
deficiency because he was red/green colorblind. She thought that the purple color
probably appeared blue to him and that he appreciated that color very much.
Mrs. Erickson was beginning to look tired. She was sitting to the right of me in that
green chair and I was full of appreciation. She had given us quite a gift that afternoon. I
didnt want to say goodbye but it was time. I was the first to stand up and Mrs. Erickson
followed. As we were leaving the small office Mrs. Erickson pointed to an item on Dr.
Ericksons desk. She told us with emotion in her voice, This is Dr. Ericksons last
appointment book. I stared at the dark blue book with his writing on it and for a
moment imagined what must have been in those pages.
We passed into the larger office and I thanked her for allowing us to visit. I took my last
look around and had a very peculiar feeling. This room contained the ghosts of so
many words, sentences, facial expressions, indeed all manner of communications that
have helped people to learn, sometimes to unlearn and relearn, and to have
experiences that caused them to live healthy and productive lives. Silently, I also
thanked Dr. Erickson on my way out.
We walked back towards the main residence side by side. I could feel the world
beginning to move again and I was aware that I had rejoined the present. Just as we
were about to leave the phone rang. Mrs. Erickson excused herself. I knelt down to pat
Thunder and Charlene goodbye who were both in good spirits and heard Mrs. Erickson
telling Robert that she had professional visitors and would have to call him back
shortly. She returned to the front door smiling and I took her hand, Thank you, again,
very much Mrs. Erickson. It was pleasure spending time with you. Still holding my
hand she replied, I enjoyed the visit, as well. Thank you. I continued to shake her
hand with a gentle amount of pressure placed on her wrist and we both smiled.
Mrs. Elizabeth Erickson died on Dec 26
th
, 2008 at 9 pm in her home in Phoenix.