From Fear to Hope

I wish you had known my grandmother. She was warm and funny. I know you would have loved her. (She definitely would have loved you.)

She was born in 1920. Often she’d tell me stories as we flipped through her photo albums. I especially loved her wedding photos from 1938. My grandmother was beautiful in her white dress. And her 10-year-old cousin, Dolly, looked adorable as the flower girl.

But my grandmother told me that under that dress, Dolly had metal braces on her legs. The braces helped her stand. They were tied to her legs with leather straps. At my grandmother’s wedding, Dolly made her way down the aisle with the help of two wooden crutches.

Dolly’s legs had been damaged by a disease called polio. Until the 1950s, polio was one of the most feared diseases in the world. 

My grandmother was kind and funny. She was born in 1920. She often told me stories about her childhood. I loved looking at photos from her wedding. Her 10-year- old cousin Dolly was the flower girl.

Dolly wore metal braces on her legs. She used crutches to walk. That’s because her legs had been damaged by a disease called polio. 

I wish you had known my grandmother. She was warm and funny. I know you would have loved her. (She definitely would have loved you.)

She was born in 1920. Often she’d tell me stories as we looked at her photos. I especially loved her wedding photos from 1938. My grandmother was beautiful in her white dress. Her 10-year-old cousin, Dolly, was the flower girl. She looked adorable.

Under her dress, Dolly wore metal braces on her legs. The braces helped her stand. They were tied to her legs with straps. Dolly used two crutches to walk at the wedding.

Dolly’s legs had been damaged by a disease called polio. Until the 1950s, polio was one of the most feared diseases in the world. 

I wish you had known my grandmother, Jennie Ross. She was warm and funny, and I know you would have loved her. (She definitely would have loved you.) Born in 1920, she lived a long life. It was mostly happy but sometimes very difficult.

Often she’d tell me stories of her childhood as we paged through her photo albums. I especially loved her wedding album, filled with glossy photographs from 1938. My grandmother was beautiful in her pearl-white dress. I was especially fascinated by the flower girl, my grandmother’s 10-year-old cousin, Dolly Yasnitz. She reminded me of the star of the movie The Wizard of Oz.

But as my grandmother told me one day, there was something more striking about Dolly than her adorable smile. Under that blue dress, Dolly’s little legs were covered with metal braces. The braces, bound tightly to her legs with leather straps, kept her stable so she could stand. At my grandmother’s wedding, she made her way down the aisle with slow, halting steps, with the help of two wooden crutches.

Dolly’s legs had been damaged by a disease called polio. Until the 1950s, polio was one of the most dreaded diseases in the world. It killed thousands. Many who survived were like Dolly, left with lifelong damage to their limbs.

Dolly and my grandmother grew up in the 1920s and ’30s. Getting sick was a constant worry. Outbreaks of diseases like measles, mumps, and the flu were especially common.

At the time, many modern vaccines and medicines had not yet been developed. Without treatments like antibiotics, getting sick was much more dangerous. An ear infection or a small cut could turn deadly.

Polio was especially feared. The disease had been affecting humans for thousands of years. But polio was mostly unknown in the United States until the late 1800s.

Dolly and my grandmother grew up in the 1920s and 1930s. People then often worried about getting sick. There weren’t modern medicines or antibiotics at that time. So getting sick could be very dangerous. A small cut could become deadly. Polio was especially feared.

My grandmother remembered when polio hit her town. Her school would shut down for weeks. Stores, movie theaters, and swimming pools would close. 

Dolly and my grandmother grew up in the 1920s and ’30s. Getting sick was a constant worry. Outbreaks of diseases like measles, mumps, and the flu were very common.

At that time, many modern vaccines and medicines had not been developed yet. And there weren’t antibiotics. So getting sick was very dangerous. An ear infection or a small cut could turn deadly.

Polio was especially feared. The disease had affected humans for thousands of years. But it was mostly unknown in the United States until the late 1800s. 

From Fear to Pride

Dolly and my grandmother grew up in the 1920s and ’30s. Their parents and their parents’ siblings had all escaped from Russia, where, as Jewish people, they had faced hateful prejudice. They came to the United States in the early 1900s and all settled in Chester, Pennsylvania.

Life wasn’t easy. They worked hard jobs in factories and shipyards. They struggled to learn English. But over time the family made strides. My grandmother’s father, Ben—my great-grandfather—became the first Jewish police captain in Chester, a source of great pride for the family. My grandmother’s cousin Isador was a gifted piano player who gave lessons to the family, including Dolly. Isador grew up to become a famous composer for movies.

But amid the happy times, the threat of illness was ever present. My grandmother and Dolly grew up before many modern vaccines and medicines. In 1918, two years before my grandmother was born, a pandemic of influenza—the flu—killed more than 50 million people around the world. Outbreaks of measles and mumps were common. Without antibiotics, an ear infection or a simple cut could turn deadly.

By the time of my grandmother’s wedding, scientists had begun to solve some of the mysteries of polio. The virus spread through the feces—poop—of an infected person. If that person didn’t wash their hands carefully, they could leave tiny bits of the virus behind. The virus could then live on surfaces that another person might touch.

Scientists raced to develop a vaccine. And people raised money for research. Children sold lemonade. Disney characters asked moviegoe
to donate money. “Heigh- ho, heigh-ho,” they sang. “We will cure polio!”

At last, a scientist named Jonas Salk developed a polio vaccine that worked. In 1954, more than 1 million children received the vaccine at school. By 1955, people across the country were getting the vaccine. Polio cases in America plummeted. By the 1960s, polio had mostly disappeared in the United States. 

I often think of the polio stories my grandmother shared. Today we are facing Covid-19. There are many similarities. The outbreaks have closed our schools. They’ve closed our restaurants and libraries. Covid-19 makes us feel scared and unsure.

But my grandmother’s stories about polio give me hope. We overcame polio. I believe we will overcome Covid-19. People across the country are getting Covid-19 vaccines as I write this story.

One day you might share your own stories of this time with your grandchildren. My wish is that these stories will give them hope during a hard time. 

By that time, scientists had solved some of the mysteries of polio. The polio virus spread through an infected person’s poop. If that person didn’t wash their hands well, they could leave tiny bits of the virus behind. The virus could then live on surfaces. Another person might touch the surface and become infected.

Scientists raced to make a vaccine. And people raised money to help. Children sold lemonade. Disney characters asked people at the movies to donate money. “Heigh- ho, heigh-ho,” they sang. “We will cure polio!”

At last, a scientist named Jonas Salk created a polio vaccine that worked. In 1954, more than 1 million children got thevaccine at school. By 1955, people across the country were getting the vaccine. Polio cases in America plummeted. By the 1960s, polio had mostly disappeared in the United States. 

“Polio Pioneers”

By the time of that wedding, scientists had begun to solve some of the mysteries of polio. They would soon learn that it spread through the feces—poop—of a person who was infected. If that person didn’t wash their hands thoroughly, they could leave microscopic bits of the virus behind on surfaces for another person to touch. The virus could then enter that second person’s body through the mouth.

During the 1940s and early ’50s, Americans mobilized in an all-out crusade against polio. People across the country volunteered to help raise money for research. Children sold lemonade. Disney characters like Mickey Mouse paraded across movie screens, urging audience members to contribute. “Heigh-ho, heigh-ho,” they sang. “We will cure polio!”

Millions of dollars poured into laboratories where researchers were racing to develop a vaccine. And in 1953, there was jubilation when a 38-year-old scientist named Jonas Salk announced that he had successfully developed a polio vaccine.

The following year, 1.8 million children known as “polio pioneers” lined up in their schools to receive the vaccine. Within a few years, polio cases in America plummeted. By the time I was born, in the 1960s, polio was almost unheard of in the United States.