Tood's Town XV

It was 1947 and I was in the third grade when I first encountered the unexpected death of a friend.

His name was Paul Keller. Paul lived in a small house located on the west side of Route 65 about a mile and a quarter north of Tood's Town. The house was covered with a type of tar paper siding which had coarse grains of sand embedded in it. It was a common type of siding for houses at that time.

I also remember that there was an old pine tree in the front yard of Paul's house.

Paul was an all-American boy. Physically fit and very active.

If I remember correctly, I got to know Paul sometime in the middle of my third grade year and we became good friends over the remainder of the school year. I remember looking forward to going to school to be able to see Paul.

Late in the school year, Paul stopped coming to school. We were told that Paul had leukemia. We didn't understand much about leukemia until Paul died. In 1947, leukemia was a frightening, unpreventable, and incurable disease. Paul's death created an empty space in the pit of my stomach that didn't leave for several weeks.

Years later, when I rode the school bus or drove my car along Route 65 from Tood's Town to Columbus Grove on my way to high school or otherwise, the sight of that pine tree would bring back the empty feeling in my stomach. Even today, some 60 years later, when Paul comes to my mind, I feel the lump of emptiness.

It was near the time of Paul's death that polio was epidemic in the United States. In Cairo several people were struck down with paralysis caused by polio. Our family escaped infection (or at least the paralysis) but a couple of my school friends contracted polio and suffered permant crippling damage to their arms and legs. Sometimes whole bodies were affected by nerve damage caused by the virus, but more commonly nerve damage resulted in arms and legs that were partially or completely paralyzed. For those who had paralysis of the diaphram, the hospitals used "iron lungs" to assist in breathing.

At that time, the origins and method of transmission of the polio virus were unknown to the people of Tood's Town. I remember that there was much speculation among the adults that the water in swimming pools was a source of the polio virus.

It was sometime in the mid-1950s that Dr. Jonas Salk developed a "killed virus" vaccine that prevented infection by the polio virus and several years later when Dr. Albert Sabin developed the oral polio vaccine made from live polio virus. The Salk vaccine was delivered by hypodermic needles and Sabin was a dot of liquid on a sugar cube that was eaten. If I remember correctly, I got an injection of the Salk vaccine from Dr. Miller and later got 3 doses of the Sabin vaccine distributed on Sunday afternoons in local school buildings.

Dillard Farnsworth

Tood's Town XIV

The image is a Lincoln Highway Memorial that was apparently built in Cairo in 1929. Additional information about the Memorial is being sought. Apparently, it was torn down within a few years of being built as no one currently living in Cairo has been able to provide any information about it.

The Lincoln Highway was from about 1937 until a U.S. Route 30 by-pass was constructed about a mile and a quarter south Main Street in Tood's Town. I remember a small red white and blue Lincoln Highway sign located near the intersection of Route 30 and Ohio Route 65.

Now to Tood's Town XIV. In my case, I have always believed and attempted to practice the old saying that “it is better to be quiet and let others think you are a fool than to speak and remove all doubt”. Additionally, my mind often requires input from others to start the process of thought that produces a verbal response. It is only occasionally that I have an unprovoked thought that requires me to start a conversation.

“Filling the air with words.” That’s how my father characterized conversation among family members. He was, when among his male friends, an outgoing and very talkative person, but at home with his family, he was generally reticent and saw no reason to merely fill the air with words.

I believe that this characteristic is not unusual among men although I have encountered families where the males are much more verbal than ours.

The non-verbal characteristic has carried over to most of my siblings and me. Also, I see this same practice of silence in my children, and male relatives on my father’s side and remember it was also present to an extreme in my paternal grandfather. An example, I believe, of the adage that a seed doesn’t fall far from the tree. In all probability it is a characteristic that is a small part genetic pre-disposition and in large part environmental experience.

On the other hand, when he chose to speak my father’s words often contained important life messages. History has confirmed many of those messages and proved others wrong. Sometimes, the messages were also humorous.

As stated in a previous posting, my dad was a horse trader and he also bought and sold used stuff of all kinds. A saying that I remember from my childhood coming from my father was "Nobody knows what they own is worth". I didn't really understand what he was saying until I started buying and selling stuff myself. I found it is almost universally true that people who are selling something do not know what it is worth. Many people believe their stuff is worth far more than it actually is while some place a very low value on their stuff. Nobody knows what they own is worth. I believe purchasing and sales agents exist because of this ignorance which exists in sellers and buyers.

One time, in the fall of the year in the late 1960s, a sportsman friend from Cleveland, Ohio asked me to take him to Tood’s Town to hunt for rabbits and Chinese ring neck pheasants. At that time, the pheasant population was low due to the widespread use of DDT as a pesticide by the farmers. However, my friend was convinced there were more pheasants around Tood’s Town than around Cleveland so off to Cairo we went. We hunted for a couple of days around Tood’s Town and stayed at our family home. Now my friend was prone to fill the air with words. Just how much he talked was brought home to me when my father commented to me as we were getting into the car to return to Cleveland “I’ll bet you don’t have to talk to yourself on the way home”.

Dillard Farnsworth