hospital, and the boy became quite a celebrity in the medical circles for his
youthful lustiness.
When the illness began to overwhelm the lad and Peter could see the
bright light that had shone in his eyes slowly extinguishing, the doctor still had
one last trick up his sleeve.
He promised Ernesto Jr. a big surprise if he would visit him for a few weeks
at No Se Preocupe. Irrepressible boyish curiosity, along with Peter’s blunt talk
to the dying youngster’s parents, paved the way for Ernesto Jr.’s arrival at the
camp one week later. He was accompanied by his mother and sister, Florencia,
whom Peter had never met before.
The staff greeted the Robillars with open arms, and after a tour and a light
noon meal, Ernesto Jr. was shown to his dormitory, where he was to meet his
three other roommates. Instead of other patients, however, he was welcomed to
his quarters by Dr. Peter De Seta and a man that the boy recognized instantly.
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That man was Omar Canas, the legendary goalkeeper for River Plate and the
Argentine National Team.
Ernesto had lauded Omar’s skills to such an extent that the doctor had
asked the goaltender to make a special trip to his camp. Canas had accepted
the invitation without a second thought, for Peter De Seta had saved his young
daughter’s life a few years earlier by performing an emergency appendectomy
on the child. If the good doctor had a special patient who was a fan of his, the
very least he could do was to give the child some hope and encouragement.
Ernesto’s jaw almost hit the floor when he saw his idol standing before
him in the camp dormitory. Their private meeting lasted over an hour, and
Peter was sure that he saw the brightness shining full strength in Ernesto’s
eyes once again. The Robillar women were duly impressed as well, and they
thanked Peter at great length for giving the boy the thrill of his lifetime. It
wasn’t until after the women had left that Peter began to reflect on the dark-
haired beauty that was Ernesto Jr.’s sister.
The doctor had never really had the time to engage in the frivolities of
romance, much to the dismay of his parents and a legion of single Porteño girls.
He had dated sporadically, mostly out of deference to his mother, who kept
reminding him that any man over the age of thirty who was still single should
be drafted into the priesthood.
Florencia Robillar had initially been slotted into the ‘relatives of patients’
category in the doctor’s mind when they first had been introduced, but he
recognized the same fire in her eyes that he had seen in Ernesto’s. While patient
and football star were allowed to converse privately, Florencia took Peter aside
to ask for the real prognosis on her brother. The news was not hopeful, but
Peter promised to make the boy as comfortable, spiritually and physically, as
was humanly possible.
He invited her to return to the camp any time she wished, for family were
always encouraged to be involved in the therapy process. But Peter had been
far more enthusiastic in requesting Florencia’s assistance than was normally
the case. He tried to conceal his interest from young Ernesto, but the boy
immediately picked up on the doctor’s seemingly offhand inquiries about his
sister.
“She’s hot stuff, isn’t she, Doc?” the boy said with a leer. “When I was able
to walk, I would sneak into her bedroom and hide behind her curtains until she
came in to change for bed. I would position the mirror on her bathroom door
so that I could see her undress and take her bath. Ooh la la, she has some set of
knockers! I tried to . . . ”
Peter feigned disgust at such language and reminded the boy that he
was talking about his sister. “There will be no more of that talk, young man,
as long as you are a guest here at the camp. The lady is your own flesh and
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blood, not some puta. Let’s concentrate on our football discussions from now
on, OK?”
Peter wondered if the boy had seen him blush at the mention of Florencia’s
anatomy. He was also thankful for the clipboard that he was holding which
enabled him to cover his swelling instrument.
Florencia Robillar became a frequent visitor to the camp while her brother
was a patient there. Peter would always find time for a lengthy discussion about
Ernesto’s condition, often as the two walked along the shores of the Rio de la
Plata. They found themselves talking about many other topics as they became
more comfortable in one another’s company. Finally, it was the doctor who
asked permission to escort the señorita to a concert in one of the local parks the
following Sunday.
Peter was definitely smitten for the first time in his life, and fortunately
for him, the young señorita from Tigre reciprocated his feelings. A yearlong
euphoric courtship followed their first date, saddened only by Ernesto Jr.’s tragic
passing a month after their announced engagement.
Lonfranco and Lydia threw their son and his bride-to-be a succession of
grand parties to introduce Florencia to Porteño society. To be the wife of a
famous surgeon was a position that could not be ignored or taken lightly. The
couple was married on a beautiful spring night in early December, 1954, an
evening that was proclaimed the fête of the year in the social columns of the
Buenos Aires dailies.
The Peter De Setas settled into a comfortable flat on Calle Pellegrini in
the Recoleta district, only minutes’ walk from the Children’s Hospital and
not far from the home of Peter’s parents in Palermo. Florencia adapted to her
new surroundings and prominent social position with ease. She and Peter were
constant visitors at Casa San Marco, where Lydia and Lonfranco always made the
young lady from Tigre feel welcome. She returned their warmth by delivering
to them their first grandson, Lonfranco Ernesto De Seta on June 1, 1955.
Again the political tide that constantly ebbed and flowed in Argentina
was ebbing for Juan Perón and his Perónista government. The death of Perón’s
popular political wife, Eva, in July 1952, marked the beginning of the end.
Students, restless for more extensive populist reforms, and the church, which
felt that Perón was usurping its powers, led the opposition. In September 1955,
Perón, fearing a bloodbath when the loyalty of his army came into question,
fled to Spain in exile. He was replaced by a succession of military dictators, all
of whom, like those before them, maintained their high office by using less
than democratic means.
Lonfranco had weathered the Perónist regime by playing both ends against
the middle. For the most part, the oligarchy, or privileged classes in Argentina,
were vilified and tormented by the Perónists, but the De Setas had kept a low
public profile for fear of attracting the attention of Perón’s watchdogs.
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The president was a charismatic figure who was able to charm many of his
most vocal detractors. Perón also had a taste for the good life as well. He had
and international business contacts abroad, was a means by which he could
spread his influence into the upper reaches of the global financial strata. As
long as you were not his enemy, you could be his friend, and he was welcomed
into many of the oligarchy’s lavish homes and estates. This enabled him to be
perceived as a president of all the people, rich and poor.
Lonfranco had met the president on several occasions, and while he was not
fond of his political ideals, he admired the man and his beautiful, intelligent
wife. Cattle exports had become the main staple of the Argentine economy, and
the president had a high regard for the men that were making this possible,
men like Lonfranco De Seta. So in the end, there was no disruption to the De
Seta business empire under the Perónists, due in a very large part to Lonfranco’s
ability to adjust to the climate of the times.
It was shortly after the birth of his grandson that Lonfranco began to
experience migraine headaches. At first they were an infrequent annoyance, but
they tended to get stronger and more persistent as time went on.
Peter was the first physician consulted, but being a pediatric specialist, he
was quick to recommend a visit to the leading neurologist in Buenos Aires. A
battery of tests was conducted, with no positive diagnosis formulated. Fresh air
and rest were prescribed, meaning an extended stay at Buenos Recuerdos. The
industrialization of the capital and the resultant pollution had made living in
the heart of the city unsuitable for many of those in frail health.
It was agreed that Lydia would stay at Casa San Marco initially, for
she wanted to be close to her new grandson. A team of private nurses would
accompany Lonfranco to Pergamino, and his condition would be monitored
constantly. The rest of the family would visit the estate on holidays and
whenever their schedules permitted.
Buenos Recuerdos had, by now, been overseen by Hector Brown for several
years. He remained Lonfranco’s right-hand man, responsible for all facets of the
operation. The two men had an unspoken understanding of the way life should
be on the estate, and they were extremely close.
At age seventy-two, Lonfranco had begun to curtail many of his overseas
business activities. This enabled him to concentrate on matters at home.
Those damned headaches also had a great bearing on his daily routine. Hector
was constantly by his employer’s side, ready to carry out his bidding. In the
beginning, the doctor’s recommendation proved effective. Rest and fresh air
had accomplished the desired result of controlling the migraines.
Unfortunately, it was only a temporary reprieve. After almost one full year
at Buenos Recuerdos, it was suggested that a trip to New York City be arranged
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to see the world-renowned neurosurgeon, Dr. Gideon Spence, at the Sloane
Kettering Institute. Passage was booked for the entire family at Lonfranco’s
request. He wanted the trip to be a happy, enjoyable adventure for his clan, no
matter how much he feared the news that would ultimately await him there.
While the rest of the family had the time of their lives in Manhattan
shopping, sightseeing, taking in the best Broadway had to offer, and residing at
the fabulous Sherry Netherland Hotel on Fifth Avenue right across from Central
Park, Dr. Spence put his Argentine patient through four days of exhausting
tests, x-rays, and scans. Lonfranco did not include Lydia in any of the medical
proceedings, preferring, instead, that she enjoy herself and help out with his
grandson. Each evening the family would dine together, either out at a five-star
restaurant, or, if Lonfranco was too exhausted or suffering an attack, from the
room service menu served in their palatial suite.
On the morning of the fifth day, a concerned Dr. Spence held counsel with
his patient.
“You have a baseball-sized tumor at the base of your brain, Señor De
Seta. How long it has been there is anyone’s guess. The procedures from here
on are very precise, however. With the frequency of your migraines increasing,
we estimate that the tumor is growing rapidly. Immediate surgery is the only
option. Hopefully, the mass is not malignant, but if it is, we hope to arrest any
further growth with radiation. I would urge you to make your decision quickly,
so we may book you a bed.”
Lonfranco had known in his heart that this would be the news he had to
deal with. He thanked Dr. Spence and informed him that a bed would not be
necessary, that he would return to Argentina to live out his remaining time.
At a family meeting that night in their suite, he repeated the doctor’s
diagnosis and recommendation. He told his loved ones that if there was to
be any surgery, it would be done in Buenos Aires, close to his home and the
people he loved. He was not willing to disrupt everyone’s lives to stay in a New
York hospital for what might be months. His wishes were respected without
argument, and a few days later, the De Setas set sail back to their homeland.
The surgery was performed in Buenos Aires less than a month later, the
pain having become intolerable. The tumor was found to be malignant, and the
prognosis for full recovery, very slim. Friends and well-wishers rallied to Lydia’s
side, and what was anticipated to be a death vigil took place in the corridors
and waiting rooms of Hospital Rivadavia.
Lonfranco, however, did not cooperate with the doomsayers. His recovery
shocked everyone in the medical profession. Within three weeks of the
operation, he was recuperating back at Casa San Marco.
That was the good news, that he was alive. The reality of the situation was
that the family patriarch was unable to walk unassisted, and that his speech
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was slurred and garbled. He would spend his days in the garden, sitting in
a wheelchair, a nurse constantly by his side. His frustration with his post-
operative condition was hardly ever evident. Only on the rare occasions that
his requests could not be deciphered would he raise his voice and shout some
unintelligible command.
Radiation treatments, as had been recommended in New York,
commenced a short time after surgery. Six months later, Lonfranco was given
as clean a bill of health as was possible under the circumstances. His speech and
motor movements would never return to him, and Lydia was forced to work in
concert with Hector Brown and various other business associates of Lonfranco’s
to enable her to get a grasp of the family assets and operations. She proved more
than equal to the task.
Peter De Seta remained somewhat removed from the day-to-day routine
of running his father’s assets. A hectic schedule of his own, both at the hospital
and the camp, kept him constantly on the run. He had never really liked
Pergamino that much, if the truth be known, preferring, instead, the urban
lifestyle to the wide-open spaces. He was, nevertheless, very attentive to his
father and assisted his mother whenever he was able
. It was Florencia who
Lydia grew to rely on the most. She and young Lonfranco would spend many a
night in one of the guest suites at Casa San Marco after a full day and night of
meetings and planning sessions.
Lydia wondered constantly about the future of Buenos Recuerdos, given
Peter’s lack of interest in stepping into his father’s shoes. But the English lady
had been born and raised on a farm, and the smell of manure was not foreign to
her nostrils. She determined in the end that the cattle business and the estate
would be kept, at least for the immediate future. She and her husband would
simply commute between the city and the country as matters required.
Lonfranco’s condition stabilized to the point that he was no longer in any
discernible pain. He constantly wore a hat to cover the scars of surgery on his
now fully bald head, but that was the only visible sign of his past trauma. He
was generally content to sit quietly and ponder whatever was going on inside
his mind. For three years he lived in his own world, watching his grandson
grow, the flowers bloom, the rains come and go, all with little or no sign of
anxiety or grief.
In May of 1959, an infant was placed on the elderly patient’s lap that he
had never seen before. Lydia whispered in his ear over and over again, “your
new grandson . . . your new grandson.” She swore that she saw Lonfranco’s
eyes brighten before the tears cascaded down his cheeks. His new grandson,
Renaldo Figueroa De Seta, had been born on the fifth of May, and named after
Peter’s mentor and world-famous pediatrician, Dr. Renaldo Las Heras.
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As so often happens, “the good Lord giveth, the good Lord taketh away.”
Those were the words of the priest that was summoned the next morning to
Casa San Marco to administer the last rites to Lonfranco Guissepe De Seta. The
patriarch of the family had passed into the next world, quietly, peacefully, in
his sleep. A smile of contentment graced his angelic face.
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Chapter eight
Immediately following the funeral, Lydia set about the task of sorting
through the myriad of business ventures in which her husband had been
involved. She did so, reassured and comforted by the tributes that were
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