Kewaunee County, Algoma and the Polio Epidemic of 1955

COVID 19 has prompted more than a few commentators to quote Franklin Roosevelt by saying, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” The line was in FDR’s first inaugural address. He took office in the depth of the Depression and the quote was seen as a “rebuke of the psychological paralysis” gripping the country. Roosevelt spoke in terms of the economic crisis. Gone was the Spanish Flu pandemic of World War l. That flu spread like wildfire because of the war. Twenty-five years later, polio was spreading.

FDR’s quote might well be words he lived by. At age 39, in 1921, he was vacationing with his family when he was stricken with infantile paralysis, more often called polio by future generations. Polio affected FDR for the rest of his life. As president, he was protected by the press and his limited mobility was largely unnoticed by the American public. In an age before TV, who’d guess the man with the firm, but calm, voice addressing them on the radio was a man in a wheelchair, one who could barely walk? Any public appearance was carefully choreographed to showcase the president as strong and healthy. His voice surely was. It wasn’t until after his death, in his 4^th term as president, that the general public learned about the polio that ruled Roosevelt’s life for more than 20 years.

Polio struck fear in the hearts of parents. Each summer folks heard of those in iron lungs, unable to breathe on their own. They heard of healthy, active children who lost muscle control and whose arms and legs were crippled by the disease. It seemed as if children were most at risk, but plenty of adults were also stricken. There were deaths.

Nobody knew where polio would strike but if it struck in Kewaunee County in 1948, the local chapter of the National Foundation of Infantile Paralysis said it was ready for it. Chairman Richard Seidl said the chapter was better prepared than ever. He reassured folks when he said polio patients in the county would not go without treatment for lack of money. Polio fundraising dances took place throughout the year.

State Board of Health Epidemiologist Dr. Arthur Zintek said in August 1949 that fear of polio as an individual risk was almost always blown out of proportion. He said many had/have had polio and weren’t aware of it. Polio with paralysis was an uncommon form of the disease while a summer cold or upset stomach might mean the virus was carried and not developed. Zintek said that the more serious cases could be helped with corrective surgery or the use of mechanical devices. Tell that to already worried parents!

During August 1951, the Red Cross was recruiting nurses for work in polio outbreak areas. The nurses would work for two months, receiving a salary, transportation  and maintenance paid by the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis. In 1953 Kewaunee County resident JoAnn Peot was a young graduate nurse recruited by Brown County Red Cross to serve at Port Huron, Michigan.

Algoma Record Herald carried an article in January 1951 about collecting money for the March of Dimes and iron lungs. Miniature iron lungs were set around town to serve as coin collecting containers. When Sheriff Alvin Kuehl opened the March of Dimes drive in 1951, he said the funding drive would last a little over two weeks but in that short time, the county could help thousands and thousands of patients that included children for whom recovery would take 10-12 weeks or more.

Polio insurance information

Ann Birdsall’s Algoma insurance agency and Schmitz in Forestville were offering polio insurance that included other diseases.

In addition to the Dug-Out fundraising dance, a dance was planned at Aude’s Triangle in Kewaunee. Tavern League president Alex Mura said the League was handling ticket sales and tickets could be purchased at just about every tavern in the county. Campaigns were also carried on in Kewaunee, Casco, Luxemburg and each of the ten towns.

During July 1953 Algoma Plywood and Veneer presented Bellin Hospital with an iron lung made at the plant. The paper said the lung, made of rich mahogany, was to have been given to Algoma hospital but the hospital was too small to deal with the disease. Plans came from Popular Mechanics after the maintenance crew developed the idea. Nick Gombler hand tooled a copper plaque that was attached to the lung, noting that the lung came from the plant and its employees.

Algoma Plywood iron lung 1953

June 1954 saw Gamma Globulin restricted due to shortages. Factored in were Wisconsin’s late start of a polio season and because eight counties had been taking part in field trials which, it was felt, would interfere with vaccine effectiveness. Early September brought attention to two Door Co. to two more cases in Door Co., bringing their total to 4, and 2 more cases in Algoma.

Two days after a national announcement in early April 1955 told U.S. populace the Salk vaccine was about 90% effective in the prevention of polio, School Supt. Arnold Chada said county first and second graders would get the vaccine soon. Centers were set up in Algoma, Kewaunee and Luxemburg, and because the county was without a nurse for a year, Mrs. Arnold Wochos, a registered nurse, was hired on a temporary basis.

Salk injections given at St. Mary's School, Algoma

In late May 1955, Carlton Graded School first grader Roger Ihlenfeld was the first county kid to get the Salk polio injection. The paper said he took the shot “like a brave boy,” thus earning a lollipop compliments of the State Bank of Kewaunee. The youngsters who followed him also got the treat. Three hundred twenty-nine first and second graders were inoculated, however 721 consent forms had been signed. Where were the others? A center was quickly established when it was learned that one school in southern Kewaunee County had not been aware of the events so its kids didn’t get the injections. As with other injections, children with colds, recovering from a contagious disease or recent illness were advised not to have the injections. If there were adverse effects from the inoculations, it didn’t make the paper.

When June saw the county with enough medication for first and second shots for a second round of injections, plans were made for additional inoculations. Nurse Wochos kept tabs on each child’s name and school attended. Then a Carlton man died at the end of the month.

Situations changed quickly, often from day to day. Disseminated information changed daily. To read the old papers is to notice the similarities with COVID 19 today even though communication in 1955 was almost primitive when compared with 2020.  Did leadership’s right hand know what the left hand was doing? Sanitation was stressed, but in 1955 there wasn’t an internet site plugging hand washing with vodka as the way to go!

Pastor Wians of St. John’s at Rankin let it be known near the end of July 1955 that he was indefinitely postponing the Sunday School picnic, saying it would be foolish to take chances with health. When the City of Kewaunee had five cases, the city council suspended recreation department activities in addition to closing the beach. Kewaunee’s cases and two from Casco were isolated at St. Vincent’s Hospital in Green Bay. By then there were two deaths in the county, one a 6-year old boy from Algoma.

Kewaunee street superintendent Lee Jirtle was ordered by the council to begin spraying the insides of all garbage cans with insecticide at each pick-up Fire chief James Drab was asked to have his department begin spraying the public dump.

While Kewaunee was adding to the precaution list, Algoma said there was no epidemic in town and activities would continue. Swimming lessons would continue and the pool and beach would remain open, although activities would be curtailed on the advice of local physicians. Parents were encouraged to do or not do what was in the best interests of their family. It was the social distancing of 1955.

Published polio precautions

The same paper said extra caution was advised, and that extreme fatigue, sudden chilling and the avoidance of large crowds was in order. Early diagnosis was important but since symptoms included a headache, stomach upset or vomiting, they might go unnoticed. One caveat was welcomed by the kids: tonsil operations and tooth extractions would weaken resistance and it was best to postpone such procedures.

Only a week later, August 4, 1955, Mayor Dick DeGuelle ordered the pool and beach closed for two weeks due to the death of the Algoma boy. Council planned to meet the following week to rule on the ban’s status. Then it was learned Luxemburg sent two new patients to St. Vincent’s, an 8-year-old and an 18-year-old. One Casco child was recovering while the other was in an iron lung.

The weekend was hot and humid and the beach was nearly deserted when Health Officer Richard Mraz posted signs. Council had decided to keep the pool and beach closed for a month. It was pointed out that as soon as restrictions were lifted, the Red Cross would give swimming tests and kids who passed would still receive their swimming proficiency certificates.

On August 11, the paper told readership that for the first time in 10 years there would be no Plywood picnic, a community summer highlight. After planning for months, management, local doctors and union members agreed that chances of exposure were too great at the picnic scheduled for August 28.

The same edition educated parents about Gamma Globulin and induced parents to have their children inoculated. The injection took effect after about 2 weeks and apparently offered 5 weeks of polio protection. Today’s grandparents remember that shot which was a true pain in the butt! The paper reported Council opened the beach but kept the pool closed in an effort to avoid gatherings of children. Meetings were advised only for small groups. Perry field park wasn’t closed but parents were to use their own discretion. Did anybody know what was going on?

Algoma ladies golf league continued their usual Wednesday outings however a day of golfing with a luncheon planned with Kewaunee and Two Rivers clubs was cancelled due to the number of polio cases. Then the scheduled city donkey basketball game was cancelled. The not-to-be-missed event was another summer biggie.

To put things in perspective, R.C. Salisbury, Director of Safty Division at Wisconsin Motor Vehicle Department, pointed out that while there was a great demand for polio vaccine, many seemed unconcerned about children and traffic. He said among the 5-14 year olds, there was a far greater chance of dying in traffic than there was with polio.

To prove his point, Salisbury said that 13 children within the age group died of polio in 1954, while 43 kids in the same age group were killed as a result of traffic. Thirty-one were pedestrians. Salisbury said he was aware of the crippling effects of polio but traffic too resulted in death and permanent crippling injuries. He went on to say there were 33 injuries for every traffic death. How would Salisbury’s comments resonate today?

Algoma’s August 18 headline all but screamed about new polio restrictions, restrictions changing on the heels of the last change a few days earlier. Today’s grandparents know about quarantines. They were kids kept in their own yards and homes to stop the polio spread. In 1955 most mothers weren’t in the paid workforce so childcare and nutrition weren’t huge problems. City kids sneaked across back lots to play with friends, but sneaking was dicey. By August 18, nine Algoma kids had polio and one died. A 34- year-old county mother also died and one of the town chairmen was hospitalized. The young woman was completely paralyzed and in an iron lung at St. Vincent’s Hospital. The chairman was more fortunate. It was not only kids in danger.

Mayor Dick DeGuelle, Health Officer Dick Mraz, Fred Braun, chair of the health committee, and member Ludwig Wichman signed an order declaring Algoma to be in a state of emergency.  The declaration outlawed all public gatherings (entertainment or social), including religious or fraternal societies and forbid all sporting events. The pool and beach had been closed but then the beach was reopened and then closed. It was said new signage was swiftly posted.

The new order quarantined those 16 or younger. If one in the age group had a job, a special work permit was required to permit the youth to travel to and from the job. It was again stressed that church services be kept to a minimum and as short as possible. Attending services without the traditional 30- or 40-minute sermons seemed like a blessing to some. People were again cautioned to stay out of crowds and get plenty of rest to prevent fatigue and exhaustion. But no sooner than the city took drastic action, five new patients from Algoma were sent to St. Vincent’s. One was a young man on the highway improvement project in Algoma who had been boarding with a local resident. He was in an iron lung for 9 days before dying of bulbar polio, the worst kind.

Those who were kids in Algoma in 1955 can tell it like it was. Stock markets and the economy were not part of our young lives: friends and family were. All of us knew somebody hospitalized at St. Vincent’s. We knew kids in iron lungs were in very serious condition. It was bad enough when it happened to a neighbor or classmate’s family, but the terror of polio striking one’s own family is something this wordsmith can’t describe so many years later. My brother was in St. Vincent’s while Dad and my sibs were in bed with fevers. The severe headaches kept them down. Doctors were run ragged with house calls and parents making what was then a long trek to Green Bay were exhausted themselves. Hospitalized youngsters were isolated and cared for but the kids needed to see a parent’s face. 

There were ambulances, but things were different so many years ago. When Dad floored the Chevy to its limits on the old Highway 54, an officer pulled him over. As soon as the officer knew a polio was being transported, he told Dad to follow him. With lights flashing and sirens blaring, the road was cleared to St. Vincent’s. The day my brother was released was the best day in our family’s history. Other kids also began coming home. Some had life challenges and some are grandparents as they are beginning to experience the effects of polio – even the mild cases - so long ago.

Algoma restrictions included ashes, garbage and rubbish which needed to be kept in regulation cans with handles and tight fitting covers. Garbage had to be wrapped and fluids were not permitted to be disposed of in cans. Homeowners failing to keep their garbage cans clean and dry would be charged for disinfection by the city. If rules were not complied with, garbage would be left at the home. It was pointed out that such rules were always in effect, not just during the polio epidemic.

The paper continued pointing out the polio caseload while stressing assistance. Algoma rarely dealt with something of 1955’s scope and it was felt that complacency would add to the problems. Editor Harry Heidmann was always a man ahead of his time, and used the paper to educate rather than to spread fear. He said those who gave least in time and effort during fund drives expected the most in times of stress, but felt everybody should know what was available. Gamma Globulin shots were available free for those in contact with a polio victim, however there was a $2 clinic fee for Algoma doctors. Others, who got the shot as a preventative, would be charged more.

Heidmann noticed what he felt was a bit disconcerting. Algoma had taken so many precautions and yet polio cases weren’t showing patterns – they were springing up throughout the city.  Kewaunee’s known cases were clustered in the downtown area.

At the end of August, despite Algoma’s rigid precautions, there were 12 polio cases at St. Vincent’s.  Who knows how many were in bed at home? In late August it was said the polio epidemic was the worst in Kewaunee County history. By then the county had been in existence in a little over 150 years and had seen the Spanish flu of World War l and countless outbreaks of diphtheria and more.

The September 8, 1955 paper said the ban would be lifted the following Monday, September 12, when school would start and life would resume. The county still had polio cases and a Luxemburg girl died, however Algoma didn’t see a single case in the previous 10 days, the incubation period. Still, county schools opened. Brussels announced it was waiting another week. Luxemburg village schools and Gregorville rural school opened one day and closed again the next because of new cases, opening for good on the 19^th.

While closings were happening in Algoma and around Kewaunee County, Door County had only one polio case, but the county was pro-active in cancelling the long-awaited fair. The Door County resident had lived in Algoma until a week before diagnosis. Mishicot Lions Club cancelled their fair because the event attracted so many from southern Kewaunee County. Polio was sweeping northeastern Wisconsin and who knew where it would be the following day? Algoma was even sprayed by plane in an effort to stop the spread.

Senior citizens remember polio and epidemics that followed. We learned about FDR and “fear itself” in another context. We learned to be cautious and even learned patience, which was hard. Our parents followed the admonitions of our local leaders even when conditions were rapidly changing. If politicians were trying to score points, we didn’t know it. We were kids. We thought we were lucky when school opening was delayed, but then were overjoyed when schools reopened.

As life got back to normal, Health Officer Mraz thanked the city doctors, leaders, parents and even the children themselves. There are those who later said that Algoma came back from the brink of hell.

Sources and photos are from Algoma Record Herald.