History Corner
Dr. Homer Myles
Dentist provided services at Tehachapi prison for 10 years after retiring
When Dr. Homer K. Myles arrived in Bakersfield in 1947, local black children weren't allowed to swim at most city pools -- except on designated days. Black residents were barred from sitting down at many white-owned lunch counters. And black families had no recourse but to go to white dentists for their dental care, even though it was understood that at some offices they would not be scheduled on days when white patients were present. "They didn't want us mingling," recalled 79-year-old William "Billy" Pierson, a retired city bus driver. "Bakersfield was a tough town during those days. It was definitely a segregated community."
But some of the hurt and rejection felt by Pierson and other African-American residents changed to hope and pride when a bright-eyed, 23-year-old dentist from Arkansas set up his practice in town. Like the earlier arrival of Bakersfield's pioneering black physician, Dr. Ernest W. Williams, the appearance of a dentist in the black community seemed to be a harbinger of positive change. "He was a pioneer," said 74-year-old Vernon Strong, a Bakersfield Realtor and former city councilman. "Certainly Dr. Myles and Dr. Williams recognized that prejudice existed, but they never let it slow them down."
Born in Dermott, Ark., in 1923, Myles' rural childhood was framed by the Great Depression. But he considered himself lucky. His father operated a barber shop, and young Homer and his three sisters never wanted for food or shelter. "There were not a lot of luxuries," he said. "But we had a lot of love. We never went hungry." Myles graduated from high school at age 14, and not long after his 15th birthday, he was on a train -- alone -- headed for Dillard University in New Orleans. "It was the first time I was ever away from home," he said. "My mother packed me a lunch to eat on the train, but it was gone before I was out of sight of Dermott."
After two years at Dillard, Myles transferred to Morehouse College in Atlanta where he earned a bachelor's degree. Then he was off to Howard University in Washington, D.C., for dental school. It was there he received his draft notice. "In those days, they had the black army and the white army," he said. "I was in the black army." World War II was raging, but the military had a keen interest in making sure medical and dental students continued their studies. So Myles was assigned to Army Special Training, an accelerated schedule that did away with summer breaks and long waits between academic terms. For three years, he did little more than attend classes, study and wait tables part time. The war ended before Myles graduated, so the Army, no longer requiring his services, discharged him. There he was, just 21 and already studying for his dental board exams.
In a triumph of democracy over fascism, America had helped save the world from Naziism and Japanese imperialism -- but at home, changes were slower to come.
While working in a dental lab in San Francisco, Myles heard about a physician in Bakersfield who was looking for a dentist to share his office space. So he visited Bakersfield where he met with Williams. Out of that meeting the two would forge a partnership and friendship that would last until Williams' death in 1975, Williams was a towering figure in the community. To this day, it's not hard to find people who speak of him in reverential terms. To the young dentist, Williams would become a model to emulate, a professional mentor and a friend whose trust was unconditional. "He was one of the finest men you could hope to meet," Myles said of Williams. "He was the big brother I never had."
On his first day on the job, Myles made about $8. Eventually his practice would grow to include people of all ages and races. For years, Myles would be the only black dentist between San Francisco and Los Angeles. In 1952, Williams and Myles left their offices at 911 California Ave. after building a new medical complex at 234 Baker St. Now 80, Myles says he doesn't like to dwell on the social and institutional barriers black Americans ran up against in those days. He recalls those memories in matter-of-fact tones, as if the discrimination was just another of life's challenges. "Many times it was subtle," he said. "A lot of times it was blatant. In many hotels and restaurants, you didn't know where you stood. If you went in, you didn't know if you would come out again, embarrassed."
And procuring bank loans to finance the new offices was simply not on a par with what white-owned businesses could expect, he said. Myles and Williams had to finance 70 percent of the development costs on their own. "You cope," he said, simply. "And it gives you something down deep -- a desire and ability to succeed under adverse conditions." Indeed. Even as his practice was flourishing, Uncle Sam called yet again. Myles was drafted for the second time in 1955, and served nearly two years in South Korea. "When I came home, the practice came back," he said. "It was gratifying."
Dr. Myles and his wife, Evangeline, were wed in 1960. In 1982, he retired from private practice, though he continued to provide dental services at Tehachapi prison for more than 10 years. Looking back over his eight decades, Myles attributes his success to the love of his parents and Evangeline, the friendship of Dr. Williams, and the unflagging support of the uncounted numbers of patients who put their confidence in him over the length of his career.
But the gratitude goes both ways.
"No matter what they had to go through, they never missed a step, they never complained," Vernon
Strong said of Myles and Williams. "They were giants." Caption: FELIX ADAMO / THE CALIFORNIAN
COURTESY OF THE MYLES FAMILY
Apr 12, 2007
A pioneering dentist and his wife were honored by Cal State Bakersfield Wednesday in part for endowing a scholarship
Dr. Homer Myles and his wife, Evangeline, received the President's Medal at the Petroleum Club, according to a university news release. The couple have established a scholarship to fund African-American and other students from disadvantaged backgrounds who have overcome obstacles. It may be awarded to undergraduate or graduate students. Preferred applicants would be those seeking master's degrees. The scholarship will start at $1,500, and the amount may increase to cover cost-of-living expenses.
For many years, Homer Myles was the only black dentist between Los Angeles and San Francisco. He set up his dental practice at age 23. He was twice drafted, during World War II and Korea. He retired from private practice in 1982 but provided dental services at a Tehachapi prison for 10 years. Evangeline Myles had a long career in nursing, joining the profession in 1939. The Myles' have been married for 48 years.