President Kennedy’s Adrenals and My Brother’s Death

In the 1960s, as we would drive on highway 70 through the western suburbs of Kansas City, my Mother Irene would start crying and my Dad would become silent. There was a reason why my parents rarely went this route. About two decades earlier they had desperately raced on this road to the Kansas University Medical Center when my baby brother Jay took his last breath. Instead of receiving treatment, an autopsy was performed. My parents were told that Jay had died of bacterial meningitis.