On the Moraine, Part XXIV

By Jim Thompson
HCP columnist

As we moved into February of 1963, we started to acclimate ourselves to our new living conditions and routines.  We didn’t have any animals yet (other than the three cows previously mentioned), so John and my evening chores largely consisted of getting enough wood in to heat (a generous term) the house for the next 24 hours. And we had the dogs to feed, of course.

I noticed that Buttons, our oldest dog, was getting some sort of scaly rash on his belly. Mother and I decided he was worried to death about the new routine. He was scratching and making himself bleed. Mother brought him in the house and applied Vaseline to his belly. She did this two or three times, and he got better.

One evening, John developed a terrible cold, and Mother became very worried about him and thought is was pleurisy. We had no car, no established doctor, or anything. These things developed into a pattern – they happened when Dad was in Troy working.

Mother called Harold Wagoner, our old friend from the McNary Farm days who lived on Briar Hill Road. He said not to worry.  He showed up in about a half hour, and took us to this old doctor in this old house in Bainbridge. I don’t know his name, but some of you readers likely remember him.

Mother and John went inside. You could see quite a number of patients waiting in his front parlor.

In an hour or so, they came out. Mother told the story.  

She said he was a kindly old man. He carefully examined John and said, “I’ll be back in a minute.”  

He came out of his laboratory with a medicine bottle with the nastiest looking mustard-colored liquid in it.  

He told mother, “Wait until you get home, then give him a spoonful of this tonight. Don’t give it to him until you are in your house. If he is not cured by morning and ready to go to school, give him another spoonful.”

At this point, in Harold’s car, Mother had her skepticism. John seemed very sick. 

But she did what he said. When we got home, she thanked Harold profusely for his help, and we went in the house.

She sat John down in the kitchen and administered a spoonful. Within about a minute, John explosively emitted from both ends. What a mess.

Next morning, John went to school. I don’t know if he was well or afraid of taking another spoonful.

The doctor's fee? $5.

Jim Thompson, formerly of Marshall, is a graduate of Hillsboro High School and the University of Cincinnati. He resides in Duluth, Ga. and is a columnist for The Highland County Press.