Former Burnet mayor writes book on Bertram doctor who helped stop deadly virus
Dr. Lee Edens (1894-1985) was born and raised in Bertram, the son of Caroline Tegge and Dr. H.L. Edens. He overcame several disabilities to become a medical doctor and bring public health services to Central Texas. Courtesy photo
Diphtheria immunization in the United States began in Austin through the efforts of Bertram native Dr. Lee Edens. Despite several chronic disabilities, Edens established a prominent medical career and set up a public health system that still serves Central Texans today.
His story is not well known, especially his connection to Bertram, something former Burnet Mayor Crista Goble-Bromley set out to change. She wrote and published the book “Dr. Lee Edward Edens: A Life of Service and Perseverance,” which is currently available to check out at the Bertram Library. It can also be purchased online.
Goble-Bromley’s grandmother Fanny Velma Normann (1910-99) started researching the book years ago but was unable to finish it before she died.
“She entrusted me with the responsibility to bring her vision to life,” Goble-Bromley wrote in the book’s dedication. “It is with profound respect for her work—and for the extraordinary man whose story she so passionately sought to tell—that I fulfill that promise. This book is as much a tribute to her unwavering commitment as it is to Dr. Edens’ enduring legacy.”
Edens was Austin’s first city physician and instrumental in establishing its first public hospital, University Medical Center Brackenridge, now Dell Seton Medical Center. He suffered all of his life from a facial twitch and a speech impediment and later developed a debilitating heart condition.
None of that stopped him from his passionate pursuit of providing public health services and fighting disease. When Dr. Edens became the city’s health officer, Austin had no health clinics.
“With little funding and limited resources, he took it upon himself to create one, establishing the city’s first clinic in a rundown, aging hospital—one built in the 1870s,” Goble-Bromley wrote, adding that Edens trained young doctors to assist in lab work at a time when Austin didn’t have a pathologist. “He contributed to groundbreaking research, developed new therapeutic techniques, and trained future doctors, leaving an indelible mark on the healthcare system.”
Edens was especially vigilant in his efforts to stop the growing number of deaths from diphtheria. In the 1920s, the United States recorded 140-150 cases per 100,000 people a year. Of those, around 15,000 died. Locally, according to the Austin American-Statesman, eight people died and nearly 100 cases were reported in 1929.
Diphtheria is an infectious disease caused by a bacterium that damages tissue, primarily in the throat and nose. It spreads through coughing and sneezing or contact with contaminated objects.
The only immunization available during the 1920s, when diphtheria was common, was an antitoxin that could kill the patient. Dr. Edens found a much safer method being used in France. He brought the toxoid, a bacterial toxin made non-toxic to stimulate antitoxin production, to Austin and started an aggressive immunization campaign.
“I talked it up to PTAs (parent-teacher associations) and other groups,” he was quoted in Goble-Bromley’s book. “(I) got the schools to give permission for the nurses to go in and get the children’s parents to sign them up.”
The procedure involved injecting a few drops of colorless fluid under the skin and was available for free at the city clinic.
“It was a radical move then, but diphtheria immunization as it is practiced today (in the United States) started in Austin, Texas,” Edens said. “If there’s nothing else in my lifetime that I’ve done, that’s all right with me.”
As the toxoid was introduced across the United States, the number of cases nationwide declined to about 15 cases per 100,000 people by 1945. The last reported case in the country was in 2003.
Goble-Bromley captures that and more of Dr. Edens’ story in her book. She chronicles his successful fight against another disease, syphilis, which was rampant in Austin in the 1930s. The VD clinic he established treated 500 patients in one afternoon. He hired a team of nurses and investigators to find an effective treatment. Penicillin, which was discovered in 1928, became the main treatment of syphilis by 1943.
“Today, syphilis is a rare thing,” he said in 1978. “I’ve seen two killers, and I was instrumental in getting rid of them in Travis County. If you say I’m boasting, I can’t help it. That’s the way it is.”
Goble-Bromley agrees, especially considering the doctor’s background.
“He was not born with privilege or ease,” she wrote. “He was born into a world that did not yet know how to accommodate someone like him. Yet, from an early age, he displayed a determination that hinted at the man he would become. His journey was not just about learning medicine—it was about proving that no limitation, no diagnosis, and no skepticism from others could stand in the way of his purpose.”
Normann’s extensive research provided the information for the book, which is deftly written by Goble-Bromley. When the author’s grandmother was in her 70s, she recorded around 20 hours of interviews with the doctor, who was in his 80s. Normann also collected an impressive number of documents and newspaper articles. She handed all of it over to her granddaughter.
The red-tinted hardback sits atop Goble-Bromley’s antique desk in her Burnet home alongside four other books she has written. At least three of her books can be purchased online. Two are science fiction: “The Thandelein” books one and two. She is finishing a new science fiction novel, not connected to the other two, which should be available later this year.
Other books on her desk are more personal and for her family.
Writing is not her only talent. Goble-Bromley also plays the mandolin, paints, makes jewelry, and sells original patterns for 3D greeting cards. Her spacious backyard workshop is divided into sections, one each for the equipment and materials she needs for her creative endeavors. She works an eight-hour day with a one-hour lunch break, moving from project to project.
Right now, she is mostly writing. Her next book, “Growing Up Goble,” is planned for this year’s family Christmas presents, but she has other projects to finish first, too many to list here.
She’s also basking in the glow of a fulfilled promise to a loved one who rates her own biographic tome. Fanny and Charles Normann were both renowned artists, photographers, teachers, and activists. They collaborated on the painting “The Reading of the Texas Declaration of Independence,” which hangs in the Star of the Republic Museum in Washington-on-the-Brazos State Historic Site. Both also have individual works on display in the Texas Capitol and the Texas State Library.
When asked about writing a biography of her grandparents, Goble-Bromley responded: “I haven’t, but I should.”
“Grandmother in heaven is looking down with a smile, pleased that Dr. Edens’ efforts have been recognized,” she said. “He needed to be recognized. The people of Bertram can be proud of his accomplishments.”