Johnson, Irma P. - Winneshiek County

General Comments:

My life has been directly affected by polio not once but twice. In 1926 when I was not yet a year old, my father contracted a paralysis, a mystery at first to the hometown physician in Tripoli, Iowa. My parents were beginning farmers although both had been born and raised on a farm. My father's left arm and right leg were especially involved. A local practical nurse came to help with his care and she and my father were quarantined in the upstairs of the farmhouse. Eventually the diagnosis of infantile paralysis was made. The disease ran its natural course and pain was relieved by massage. The outcome was a slow recovery in which my father's left arm and especially his thumb and forefinger no longer were very usable. He was unable to drive a team of horses, so necessary to farm operation in 1927-28. A man was hired to help but profits were not enough to keep him on past six months. A farm auction was scheduled and my parents and I moved to a bungalow in Tripoli where he lived the rest of his life. He purchased a Watkins dealership and developed a successful business. He could relate well to his farmer customers and stayed in the business fourteen years, until his back could no longer stand the driving on bumpy gravel roads. I never heard my father complain about what had happened, but he never lost his love of farming. We often had Sunday afternoon rides out into his old Watkins territory, just to see how the crops were doing. Country school children remembered that as he drove by their school houses, he would open 2-3 packs of chewing gum and throw the sticks into the school yard at recess time. The teacher may not have thought kindly of his action but the children never forgot Rudy Piegors, The Watkins Man.

Two years after we moved to town I also contracted infantile paralysis (polio). This time the same physician who had cared for my father was still there and the diagnosis was made immediately. I remember very little about the illness except I do recall being quarantined with my mother and grandmother while my father lived with his parents. He came up on the front porch each day, late afternoon, and talked to us through a living room window. Treatment was minimal with no massage, some heat and no exercise. I did recover and only my feet and legs were really involved. My left calf is smaller in circumference, my left leg is one inch shorter and foot development was most affected. As my feet grew, residual paralysis of the tendons from heel to toe did not elongate so I developed high bony arches and my shoe sizes never have exceeded a two. My mother and I spent six weeks the following summer in St. Louis at a physical therapy center where I received extensive exercise therapy. I do remember the machines that were used, the heat of the city (no air conditioning then) and our weekly visits to the zoo. When we returned home my parents were instructed to buy for me a large sturdy tricycle which they did and which I credit for my fairly complete recovery. My parents never stopped me from trying anything so I ran, skipped, jumped rope, roller skated, biked, played softball, etc . My slight left toe drop caused lots of falls and I was rarely without skinned knees in various stages of healing. Of course, Watkins petro-carbo salve was a great help with that.

In the 1930s University Hospitals had a statewide outreach program called State Services for Crippled Children in which physicians, nurses and therapists came to small rural hospitals where patients in the local area could be referred by their local physicians. I was fortunate enough to attend such a clinic in Oelwein at which I was seen by Dr. Steindler, the famous orthopedic physician who long operated out of Children's Hospital in Iowa City. He did recommend a surgery in which a triangular piece of instep bone would be removed to make my feet look better and to make shoe fitting easier. Unfortunately, the procedure would cost $350 for each foot, money my parents just did not have. So the surgery was not done.

I expect many people who have deformities or other physical limitations maybe also discovered what I did early on. My friends were my friends because of who I was, not because of how I looked. I soon also learned the people for whom beauty and physical appearance were the guidelines. I did choose a profession, hospital dietetics, where I could practice in a white uniform, white hose, and flat white duty shoes. At work I looked like everyone else. Off work, I was still like everyone else except shoes were sometimes a problem. I am now eighty-one-years old, in good health (good nutrition!) , can live alone and do most everything I choose to do. I had forty-four years of a wonderful marriage and have three children, their spouses and five grandchildren as my loving family. I have been truly blessed.