As soon as she said it — “A lot of women loved my father” — Tricia Freeman had to laugh.

“I know what that sounds like, but it’s true,” she said, still chuckling. “My dad used to get in trouble because he’d spend so much time talking and listening, he’d get behind in his appointments. But the women loved him for it.”

Freeman’s father is Dr. Richard Hermes, a Lawrence obstetrician and gynecologist who delivered no fewer than 10,000 babies between 1950 and 1985.

Freeman, who lives in Costa Mesa, Calif., spent much of last week at her dying father’s bedside.

“He survived prostate cancer for 13 years, but now it’s come back with a vengeance,” she said. “He doesn’t have much longer, I’m afraid.”

Hermes, 89, was moved Friday from Lawrence Memorial Hospital to the nursing unit at Brandon Woods Retirement Community, 1501 Inverness Drive.

“He was a jewel, an absolute jewel,” said Nancy Davis, a maternity-ward nurse at Lawrence Memorial Hospital from 1955 to 1996. Hermes delivered three of Davis’ five children.

‘The gentlest gentleman’

“If you were pregnant and he talked to you, he made it seem like you were the only person in town who was having a baby,” Davis said. “He was the gentlest gentleman I ever met in the profession.”

Sally Kennedy, 48, was his patient, too. “I’d known him for a long time. He was my mother’s doctor, and I grew up with his kids,” she said.

“So after I got married and my husband and I were having fertility problems, I went to him,” Kennedy said. “He was such a good listener and he explained things so well. I remember he would draw pictures and diagrams to help you understand. You never felt rushed in his office.”

Hermes put Kennedy and her husband, John, on his list of parents wanting to adopt.

“That was in 1979,” Kennedy said. “We only had to wait about a year.” The couple adopted their son, Richard Patrick Kennedy, through Hermes’ office.

Originally from Bradford, Pa., Hermes graduated from the University of Pittsburgh medical school in 1939. He spent most of World War II in Europe, where he was a flight surgeon attached to the U.S. Army Air Corps.

After residencies in Chicago and Dallas, he moved to Lawrence in 1950, joining Dr. Raymond Schwegler, who, at the time, was Lawrence’s first and only board-certified obstetrician.

“There were others in town who delivered babies as sort of a sideline, but Dr. Schwegler was the only one who was fully trained, who’d done his residency in OBGYN (obstetrics and gynecology) and who specialized in it,” said Dr. Henry Buck Jr., who worked with Hermes. “So when Dr. Hermes arrived, that meant there were two OBGYNs in town.”

At the time, Douglas County’s population had just topped 34,000 — it’s about 103,000 now. Birth control pills wouldn’t reach Lawrence for 10 more years.

Schwegler and Hermes were an odd couple. “They got along so well — it was amazing,” said Schwegler’s son, Dr. Ray Schwegler, an internist at Providence Hospital in Kansas City, Kan.

“My father was introverted, very quiet. He practiced by himself for 20 years,” said Schwegler, 67. “(Dr. Hermes) was outgoing, liked to have a good time and loved to tell stories. They complemented each other perfectly.”

Delivering babies

But within a few years, illness forced Schwegler to give up obstetrics. Hermes soon found himself the only board-trained obstetrician in town.

“He was extremely busy,” recalled Dr. Vernon Branson, who moved to Lawrence in 1955.

“He was very well-trained, extremely competent. He knew what to do in special situations,” Branson said. “By ‘special’ I mean when you’re having babies, you don’t get to wait. That baby is coming when it’s coming. You have to be ready.”

Dr. Howard Wilcox joined Hermes in late 1956. The two practiced together almost 30 years. They were joined by Buck in 1967.

“By that time, they were ready for someone to give them a hand,” said Buck, now coordinator of gynecology at Watkins Memorial Health Center at Kansas University.

Raymond Schwegler died in 1996. Wilcox died in 1987.

Sandy Dolezal, a nurse, worked with Hermes in the 1980s at Lawrence Memorial Hospital. “As far I’m concerned, Dr. Hermes is the top,” she said. “There wasn’t anybody better when it came to bedside manner, office manner and being professional.”

His loves

Aside from his medical practice, Hermes was well known for his love of poker, fishing, flying and fine-tuned storytelling.

His favorite story, friends say, had to do with how he met his second wife, Marjory.

“It was 1962, in November. My father died,” said Marjory Hermes, “I was living in Germany at the time, so I bundled up the two kids and headed home. My mother was here, but she refused to do anything until I got here.”

Marjory Hermes’ father, Truman Homer Brown, had wanted to be cremated and have his ashes scattered along the Kaw Valley.

“I called the airport to see if I could get somebody to take me up, and the person there had me call Dick Hermes,” Marjory Hermes said.

“He met me at the airport and we went up,” she said. “When we got back, he wouldn’t let me pay him or for the gas. He didn’t own the plane, he rented it. But he wouldn’t let me pay for that either.

“Finally, I said, ‘Well, what will you let me do for you?’ and he said, ‘How about a home-cooked meal?'”

Seven months later, they married.

“When people would ask how we met, I’d say my father introduced us,” Marjory Hermes said.

He brought four children to the marriage, she brought two. Today, they have seven grandchildren and six great-grandchildren.

Mercedez LaMont, 27, visited her grandfather last week.

“He recognized me, which was good because I hadn’t seen him for a few years. He said my name,” she said. “When I left, I said, ‘Goodbye, I love you,’ and he told me to keep my ears warm.”