‘Oh, yeah, three packs a day, all...

‘Oh, yeah, three packs a day, all my life. I think that was the cause of my cancer.’

Dick Burns, 73, of Coronado is locked in a bear hug with life. He’s been a football star, fighter pilot, a lover of women and wine. Asked about wives, a gurgling laugh cascades up from deep in his chest and three fingers rise from the arm of his chair. Now Burns has beaten throat cancer two times over. A three-pack-a-day man for 50 years, he has no regrets about that: He enjoyed the smoking too much. Times staff writer Janny Scott interviewed Burns recently at his Coronado apartment.

I had a sore throat. And it stayed. So I went over and asked them at Balboa Hospital. First, they put that tube down your throat and look around. Then they said, “Yes, you definitely have cancer.”

They gave me six months. Well, that’s rumor, a lot of it; that’s what I found out later. They came up with a recommendation for radiation. So I had a series of radiation tests up to the limit at the time. And they said, “We think you’re cured.”

So I went off, did all the normal things, I drank whiskey and smoked cigarettes. And six months later the cancer came back on the other side of the throat. So I went back and got right down to the line and they told me, “We can’t help you any more.” I had had my limit of X-rays.

I sold my house, my apartment place. I sold my car, television. My sisters came out and unloaded all my personal things. I used to paint. My sisters gave those all away. I had a good library--not large but good. Classics, and I like camping. I had a lot of books about the Minnesota wilderness. Oh, my sisters goofed up. When I went to the hospital, all my personal things went. I had to buy new underwear and things like that, that got lost in the shuffle.

I called it my holocaust. Because I’d lost everything.

The hospital, that was bad. I had a tube in my head there for about three weeks, for eating. I couldn’t talk, lost my voice. I was kind of dumb with the cancer at first. By that, I mean, I couldn’t speak. I was kind of stricken dumb, too.

The second time, they sent me to a rehabilitation home in Hillcrest. Gee, I hated that place. They sent all kinds of old people that their families just didn’t want to look after. They indicated I’d be there for life, and that made me mad. So I really went with every rule and regulation they had, trying to cure myself.

Doctors over here said it was a miracle.

Wonderful! I got out the 27th of January this year. I went out and bought a new car and I thought I’d get one cheap, for three, four, five thousand bucks, like a Honda motorcycle with a fringe on top? So I went and got a Honda, all right. But the cheapest one they had was $9,000. I rented this apartment, got a full-time maid. Ate out a lot.

I don’t get around much. I read a lot. I like those big six-, seven-hundred-page books. I love to cook. I’ve got good friends, but I was out of touch with girls for a long time, so I haven’t got a girlfriend. If you’ve got a sister, I’d like to know it.

I get tired. I like to drink, bourbon and water. I don’t smoke any more. I quit. Oh yeah, three packs a day, all my life. I think that was the cause of my cancer. I thought I was immune. I mean, I had smoked so hard and so long.

That I miss. I still reach for cigarettes in my pocket.

My friends, they tell me I’m a survivor. My father died when I was six months; my mother was accidentally killed when I was 10 years. My stepfather was gone a lot, and (my mother) kept a rifle up in the closet around the diapers. I had a half-brother, and she was going to change a diaper. The gun fell down and got her right in the stomach.

I had a bad accident in ‘58, in Norfolk. I drove off the road coming back from a poker party. I went off into the woods and hit a tree and was really busted up. I had four breaks in my femur, both ankles busted, bunch of ribs, shoulder. A tree came halfway through the car right behind my back, but I was thrown about 50 feet away.

One thing that was pleasant about it was my doctor believed in codeine. All I wanted. Of course it raises hell with your digestion. He said he’d never made an addict yet. He also prescribed four ounces of whiskey every night. Yes, very nice.

I’ve always enjoyed living, and I have a strong desire to live. I’ve done a lot of flying, military flying, fighters and aircraft carriers. If you can do that, and fly aboard the carriers at night, in a bad sea, then you can do almost anything. I’ve always had that feeling, that I could do things.

I just think I’m a lucky son of a bitch.