The Age of Polio by Dan Olmsted on Age of Autism
In 2016, our founding editor Dan Olmsted wrote this 13 part expose of the origins of polio in New York City. Dan was an acclaimed journalist, Yale trained. He was a founding writer at USA Today, and his series "The Age of Autism" for UPI offered the groundbreaking question, "Why don't Amish children have autism?" We invite you to read his investigative journey into our medical past. As he hypothesized, it might provide insight into our current plight. You are more than welcome to share the URL to this on any platform, please acknowledge Dan Olmsted and Age of Autism. I can send you the code to drop into your platform, if you would like. Email me at [email protected]. Thank you. Kim
Donate - Thank You
A note for those of you expecting the latest installment in the polio series – I’m taking a break to complete another project but will return with a vengeance in a while. I’ve pretty much completed the arc of the 1916 New York City and North Atlantic epidemic, proposing that sugar tainted with arsenic pesticide triggered the outbreak in those with an active poliovirus infection. Next we’ll look at other outbreaks to test and refine our hypothesis, and ultimately examine why polio is the autism of childhood illnesses, and autism is the polio of childhood disorders – both triggered by an environmental factor that orthodox medicine is either slow to recognize or suppresses altogether. I guess you could call it an after-action report; it's all about "hindsight "that should have been just as clear at the time if the experts weren't blinded by their own theories at the cost of ignoring the people right in front of them. Dan Olmsted
By Dan Olmsted
"Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler." -- Albert Einstein
1.
On May 1, 1916, thirteen-month-old Lettie Caruso* moved with her family to a tenement at 1295 Gates Avenue, Brooklyn. A fifty-six-year-old woman named Mrs. G.H. Franklin lived and worked on the first floor, where she ran a small ice cream parlor that “the children naturally frequented,” according to a subsequent report by the New York Health Department. Lettie and her family lived in the apartment adjacent to the ice cream shop. On May 9, Lettie became ill. “A private physician was called the first day and came several days,” the Department reported. “She was examined with the stethoscope and at the first visit the doctor thought it was only a cold. As she grew worse a physician from New York was called in consultation. Mrs. Caruso thought the diagnosis was pulmonary bronchitis. So far as she knew the child was not paralyzed, but she cannot remember any special examination for that. There has been no Infantile Paralysis in this house, nor in the adjoining properties.”
That was about to change.
Looking back with perfect hindsight, Brooklyn in May 1916 was ground zero for an explosion that no one saw or heard for a month and more -- and, to this day, no one has satisfactorily explained. Before it ended late that summer, 25,000 people in the Northeast developed paralytic poliomyelitis, most of them young children, and an extraordinary 5,000 died -- nearly half of them in the City of New York, a toll approaching the September 11 tragedy. It was by far the largest and most lethal polio epidemic to date, and it remains one of the biggest ever (see chart).
As spring turned to summer, polio gripped every parent with fear, not just in the Northeast but nationwide. It was a fear that never entirely lifted until the outbreaks ended in the U.S. and most other countries after the Salk vaccine was introduced a half-century later, an occasion so momentous that church bells rang out across the country. But 100 years ago, and especially Brooklyn, there was barely suppressed panic that the authorities and the media did their best to tamp down.
"While there is no need of undue alarm," the Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported in a careful front-page (but one column) article on June 17 announcing the epidemic, "the officials of the board of health are somewhat worried and are taking measures to stamp out the disease."
Since 1894 there had been smallish though increasingly ominous clusters of cases around the country. The first, in Vermont, affected 132 and killed 18; strangely, domestic animals were also affected even though polio is a disease of humans. The worst so far had been in 1907, which began in Brooklyn, too, before spreading to Greater New York but not much further, killing 125 in the city. Around the world, particularly in Scandinavia, larger clusters had started appearing, seemingly at random, since 1905.
But 1916 marked the moment the Age of Polio arrived in America.
Continue reading "The Age of Polio by Dan Olmsted on Age of Autism" »