Polio Intervenes

This bike was dad’s motivation to get well! He had a picture of it at the hospital. 

Growing Up in Mid-Twentieth Century America

Chapter 8: Polio IntervenesThe spring of 1950 came along and with it there was excitement at our house. We received news that Uncle Arnold Prichard, wife Virginia and kids Carol Ann, Jim, Guy, and Tom would be driving cross country from their home in Sunland, CA to visit their Pennsylvania relatives. I was finishing my kindergarten year and my sister was finishing 4th grade. Great Aunt Myrtle was still with us but suffering some mental lapses. On at least one occasion she had walked across the long bridge on a trek to the kindergarten in the church basement to pick me up in the middle of a session telling Mrs. Conway that my mother wanted me at home. Actually it was Aunt Myrtle that wanted me at home and when we got there my mom was puzzled and not happy. Aunt Myrtle did not adjust well to me going to school. She had displayed some erratic behavior on our trip to California in 1949 as well. I do not recall the exact time frame but within a year she would be be confined to a residence home in nearby Pittsfield where she could receive 24 hour care.

Since the California Prichards were driving cross country in their new 1950 Ford we did not know exactly when they would be arriving. I spent several days driving my jeep or tricycle down to the main corner across from Johnson’s Grocery to watch for their arrival. It was all to no avail because they arrived one night when I was already asleep. The picture included is a little blurry but shows my sister and I standing with the boys, Uncle Arnold and Aunt Virginia. Since cousin Carol Ann is not in the photo it is possible that she did not make the trip. I am not sure about that. Cousin Jim is standing with his arm around my shoulder. The next time we would see Jim was winter of 1957 when he visited us on his way to an Army assignment in Germany. By that time we lived in a country home and enjoyed skiing and sledding with him on the slopes of our apple orchard on East 5th Avenue. (a chapter to come)

I don’t remember much about their visit except that we did make some trips with all of us in my dad’s big Kaiser. I sat squeezed between my dad’s driving position and the driver’s door. There were 9 or 10 of us in the car but it was a very wide automobile. In 1950 Arnold and Virginia were in their early thirties. I do know that one day there was a picnic at someone’s country cottage in a forest near Erie, PA. We did not have many known relatives on the Prichard side for reasons never explained but apparently a few were dug up for a gathering. There were and are many Prichards in the Franklin, PA area as our grandfather Prichard (who died in 1938 - well before my time) had 10 or 11 siblings. All of the people in this 1950 photo have passed on except for myself and cousin Guy Prichard standing just to my left. Guy lived in Santa Clarita, CA until 2009 when he retired to Prescott, AZ! Strangely that was the year Joy and I moved to Santa Clarita. It took a couple of years to track down Guy in Prescott. Even stranger was the fact that Prescott was high on our own list of possible retirement choices. California won for us because of grandkids.

Apparently during the picnic in the forest the kids involved went for a hike following a stream through the forest. I do recall the hike and how I insisted on walking in the stream getting my shoes wet and my sister telling me to get out of the water which I refused to do. Whether that contributed to my coming battle with Polio we will never know but it may have been a factor.

As the summer wore on the Californians returned to California and life at our house returned to normal with preparations for my starting first grade and my sister starting 5th grade. That is normal except for one thing. During August I became very ill being very tired, lethargic, and unable to keep up with things. My mother was very well read about current events and was quite afraid that I might have been attacked by the well known Polio virus (infantile Paralysis). She never was one to hesitate calling for medical help for her children. I’m sure the first stop was Dr. Larson and then the Public Health Officer came to the house. In those days this government man could slap a quarantine on the home of any family who had a family member with a communicable disease. This was likely the latter part of August 1950 as school would start in mid-September.

I was kept in bed all the time at that point and around the clock my mother would bring hot steaming cloths to wrap around my arms and legs - administering the “Sister Kenny” treatment for killing the Polio virus even though we did not yet have an official diagnosis. Every day when my father returned from work he would bring me a gift of some sort. Once I recall it was a bright red Model T Ford on a pull string, other days it was a record or other toy. I especially remember the record album where cartoon characters were singing songs. Characters like Porky Pig, Bugs Bunny, Elmer Fudd and Daffy Duck. I had a great love for all comic books so hearing the characters come alive was exciting. No doubt they were all the voice of Mel Blanc.

The house being under quarantine meant that only my father could leave the house. Mother and sister had to remain in the house at all times with me. Finally on September 12, 1950 (also happened to be my 6th birthday) my parents took me to Warren General Hospital during my father’s lunch hour for a spinal tap which would reveal whether or not I was a victim of Polio. I shall never forget laying on that table and seeing doctors staring down at me from every side! This was important information for all the doctors as they might be facing a wide spread epidemic in our small town. Results were returned quickly and indeed I was infected with the Polio virus.

We returned home for the afternoon while Ted returned to work. As soon as he returned that evening the family got in the Kaiser to deliver me to Bradford Regional Hospital about 40 miles distant. Bradford was set up with a small pediatric Polio ward where I was being sent for treatment. A bed was made for me in the back seat and the rest of the family rode in the front. My sister and mother would remain in quarantine for another three weeks or more at home. That evening on the way to Bradford the rain came down in buckets. I watched the rain drops run off the back window as we drove and wondered what I was in for. As we drove up to the hospital the rain let up but it was dusk and very cloudy. We did not go in the front door. Ted stopped the car at a rear loading dock and carried me up to a waiting wheelchair and wheeled me partway down a long dim and mysterious hallway where he said goodbye, he would see me tomorrow. Then he turned and walked back to the car. There may have been a nurse waiting there but it seems like I sat there by myself for a while. Then a nurse wheeled me upstairs to this ward that was to be my new home for the next several weeks.

There were two other kids in the ward, both tucked into “iron lungs” so that only their heads were showing. These big tanks that looked like hot water storage tanks were keeping these kids alive by assisting their breathing. My Polio had not progressed that far and most fortunately never would. I credit my mother’s foresight and preliminary treatment for my full recovery. She always said, “I was just doing my job.” So I was on my own at 6 years old and things continued as at home in that steaming hot burlap cloths were administered to my limbs several times a day for a period of about three weeks. My mother’s sister Aunt Ruth Walker and her family lived in Bradford. I recall that the next day a little pink birthday cake showed up on my night stand that my Aunt Ruth had baked and delivered to the hospital. It looked wonderful and every so often one of the nurses would ask me if I would like a piece of the cake. I always said, “not right now - maybe later.” I must have really been sick to not eat the cake. I did feel sad when they took it away and disposed of it.

There was a door to the hallway straight across from my bed. Every evening around 6 pm my father would show up outside that door. We could not speak to each other but we developed our own sign language and I was sure glad to see him. This went on for three weeks until someone came in and announced that I would be leaving the Bradford Hospital and go to Zem Zem Shriner’s Hospital in Erie, PA about 100 miles away. I was told that I had a choice of going there in an ambulance or my dad could drive me there. If my dad were to drive me then I could stop at home on the way and have lunch with my family. It was a decision that was up to me! Well, that was a tough one for a kid that really loved to play with toy cars. A chance to ride 100 miles in an ambulance was really, really tempting. But, at the end of my analysis I chose to have my dad drive me to Erie and stop at home for lunch. There was really no contest on that.

It was a cool, crisp but very sunny morning when Ted picked me up for the trip to Erie. He carried me out to the car and placed me in the back seat but now I could sit up instead of laying down. Much to my surprise there were two bushel baskets full of wrapped gifts in the back seat with me. These were gifts from friends, neighbors and church members that had been prepared for me! The baskets themselves had been painted and decorated with Disney and other cartoon characters by a talented teen artist whose name I do not remember. I was busy opening gifts all the way back to our house in Warren. My mom had fixed my favorite tomato and mayonnaise sandwich for lunch. During lunch Wilda and Stuart Custer and Aunt Maxine came up to the front door to see me but the house was still under quarantine so we just had to wave through the glass. I was unable to walk but my dad carried me to the front door. After lunch we went on to Erie and Zem Zem about 90 minutes from home.

As we drove into the circular drive in front of Zem Zem Shriner’s Hospital with a blue sky above and falling leaves below, I thought it looked more like a college campus than a hospital, lots of trees and green grass with a building set far back from the street. My dad carried me inside and turned me over to the hospital staff. I was taken to the young boys ward and assigned to a cream color metal bed with high side rails like a baby bed. Either that day or one day soon I was to be situated next to Jack Swanson who was already there and was also from Warren. Jack’s dad was the proprietor of Swanson’s Watch Shop on Pennsylvania Avenue in Warren. Jack and I are still friends on Facebook.

Zem Zem Hospital was all business. Visitors were permitted only on Sunday afternoons because the rest of the week we were all busy with physical therapy. Each child had physical therapy in the morning and in the afternoon. We also had some free time when you could request certain toys be brought in from your locker in the locker room. There really wasn’t any time to be homesick. A tutor also made rounds for those old enough to be in school. The tutor asked me if I was in school and I didn’t know what to say because I was supposed to be in school but hadn’t started yet. So I told him I didn’t know. Apparently he found out because soon I was learning the alphabet and learning how to read.

The exercise room was quite magnificent. There were individual padded booths at waist level for adults so each kid had an individual private booth in which to receive physical therapy. It was just the right height so the therapists didn’t have to bend or stoop to give instruction and assistance. There was also exercise equipment like parallel bars which would be useful later for actually learning to walk again. Another amenity that I found most impressive was a huge heated swimming pool for exercising. The water was practically like a hot tub.

On Sunday afternoons the visitors came. My sister was not permitted to enter the hospital but my parents were always there and a few other relatives would come from time to time. When it was time for visitors to leave, the hospital staff broke out the television sets. Those of us from small towns had not experienced television before so we were quite excited to see Hopalong Cassidy, Roy Rogers, Gene Autry and The Lone Ranger. The TV screens were quite small but the excitement was large and it prevented homesickness. Watching TV was only once a week on Sunday evenings. Meals served up at Zem Zem were quite good. Breakfast was oatmeal, toast, or cream of wheat, and some fruit. Lunch might have been soup but I don’t remember lunch. Dinner was meat, baked potato with stewed tomato mashed in, and a vegetable. I told the servers I was never eating baked potato with stewed tomato again when I got home. It did get tiresome. I continued doing whatever I was told to do for exercise and in February 1951 I was told my parents were coming to take me home.

For the first time in months I dressed in real clothing with shoes on my feet. It felt kind of strange to be wearing that clothing. My mom, dad, and sister came to pick me up and we all walked out to the parking lot together. One thing that helped me through these months was a color photo of a red two wheel bicycle that was waiting for me at home. Riding a two wheel bicycle was a long time dream of mine. The picture of that bike kept me motivated to walk through those parallel bars and then walk on my own without the need for the bars. After arriving home my parents presented me with another decision making opportunity. I was asked if I wanted to return to kindergarten for the rest of the year or to go to first grade and make up the work I had missed from September to January. I chose to go to first grade so I could be with my friends. It may not have been the best decision from an intellectual standpoint but it worked well enough with the extra tutoring I received in first grade from Miss Grace Bell.

Thanks to the medical care and physical therapy I received in that 6 month period of time I have never experienced an issue related to having had Polio. I completed basic training in the U.S. Army in 1966 and completed a three year military enlistment including one year of service in Vietnam.