Richard’s Story: Update

Just wanted to mention that Richard Daggett’s autobiography about his life before, during and after the polio epidemic of the 1950’s is now available at Amazon.com!  

The book is entitled  Not Just Polio:  My Life Story.  Click on the highlighted link to go to the product page on Amazon’s website. 

Also, here’s part of an article in The Downey Patriot newspaper about Richard and his book.

“Richard Daggett’s autobiography presents a clear and comprehensive view of his experience with polio,” said legendary Rancho physician Jacquelin Perry, MD in the foreword to the book. “Every episode he reviews is stimulating and told with candor.” Richard spent two years at Rancho to recover enough independent breathing and leg strength sufficient for walking with braces. But his severe scoliosis caused by polio showed no significant gains. So Dr. Perry and Dr. Vernon Nickel successfully stabilized Richard’s spine with a revolutionary spinal fusion procedure that allowed him to sit and stand erect.

“The vision and determination which became evident during this long challenge, were, without a doubt, significant elements which enhanced his effectiveness as an advocate to improve the welfare, comfort and safety of the severely disabled patients who lacked adequate resources,” Dr. Perry said.

Dr. Perry has treated Richard for more than 50 years. Today, the scourge of Post-Polio syndrome affects many of the world’s 5 million polio survivors. Richard and Dr. Perry continue to make a difference for those who have battled polio over all these years.

The book highlights Richard’s life of service to the disabled community. “As President of the Polio Survivors Association and President of Rancho’s Amigos Fund, Richard is a role model and a lifesaver to countless individuals,” said former Rancho Director of Social Work Greg Thompson. “People come to him in crisis, and with his knowledge of polio, the benefits system, and special caregiver programs, he is able not only to solve problems, but to instill hope. When you look at what he’s done for polio survivors, it’s amazing.”

Richard’s book has been very well-received. One reviewer said, “It’s wonderful, and of course the photos are priceless. A tribute to Richard’s parents, a paean to Rancho Los Amigos, a history of Los Angeles and Southern California in the ‘50s and ‘60s, and honest discussion of sexuality, a first-rate description of a tracheotomy and spinal fusion, and how he kept his head through it all.”

Another reviewer said, “It is a good read. It is nostalgic for those of us who are old enough to remember the 1950s and great for those who enjoy reading about recent history. The author recalls the events of his life clearly and with absolute candor.”

Richard has given nearly 10,000 volunteer hours to Rancho Los Amigos, making him one of the top 10 volunteers in the 122-year history of the hospital.

“He was Volunteer of the Year for Rancho in 1988, but as far as I’m concerned, he could be Volunteer of the Year every year,” said Rancho’s Director of Volunteer Services Debbie Tomlinson. In 2006, Rancho awarded Richard its highest honor, The Amistad Award.

In addition to his work at Rancho and in his volunteer organizations, Richard is an active journalist who has written extensively on disability and the human condition. He has appeared in several film and television documentaries about polio, and was featured in a noted Huell Howser video on the history of Rancho.

Richard has authored several pieces of legislation benefiting those with severe disability. “He learned from his parents how to overcome barriers caused by his disabling condition, and he continues to overcome every barrier he encounters to be a powerful advocate for other individuals with disabling illnesses and injuries,” said Rancho Chief Executive Officer Jorge Orozco.

Richard is a longtime member of the United Methodist Church in Downey, where he is a lay speaker. He is also a member of the Downey Coordinating Council. A brilliant landscape photographer, he serves as an instructor in the Don Knabe Pediatric Photography program at Rancho. He still enjoys music and is a major history buff.

“Richard is a true inspiration to all of us,” said world-renowned Rancho artist Steve Clay. “He is one of the kindest, most gentle, most loving and most talented people I have ever met.”

“I just think we’re put on this earth to help one another,” Richard said. “If I can help improve the life of even one person, then I’m enriched also…and I think that’s what we’re here for.”

Richard with Rancho physician Dr. Jacquelin Perry, who has treated him for 50 years.

The Rancho Los Amigos Foundation will hold a special reception and book signing at noon on Friday, June 25 at Rancho’s Support Services Annex Building Room 1150 to celebrate Richard’s life, his 70th birthday and his innumerable contributions to the city and the hospital he loves. Rancho is located at 7601 E. Imperial Highway in Downey, CA.

To read my original post about Richard’s Story, click here.



Richard’s Story

Polio.  Perhaps to someone born after 1957, this word probably doesn’t evoke much more than hazy images remembered from a high school history book or health class.  But to people who were born prior to that year, it was a word that held an icy grip on the hearts of parents and families across the nation.  

The polio epidemic of 1952 was one of the worst outbreaks in the U.S., with 58,000 reported cases that year alone.  The following year saw over 35,000 victims.  Nearly everyone either had a family member affected by the disease or knew someone who had been touched by it.  The cause and the transmission of polio weren’t widely understood.  Parents lived in fear of summer vacation because that time of year seemed to be the peak season for infection.  Mothers kept their children home and inside, away from any possible contact with others.  Public swimming pools were closed.  Some people even resorted to keeping their windows sealed tight, out of fear the disease was somehow borne on the summer breezes.

In 1953 I was about six years old and my older brother was ten.  Our neighbors across the street had four children, two of them grown and on their own.  The youngest, Richard, was thirteen and was often a playmate of my brother’s.  Richard was an active, happy-go-lucky kid of the 1950’s.  But that all changed forever.

In July of 1953 Richard and his family had just returned from a camping trip.  My brother had gone over to Richard’s house and the two of them were having fun playing in the family’s travel trailer.  A day or two later, Richard woke up with a stiff neck and back, which worsened over the course of the day.  A visit to the doctor resulted in his being taken to L.A. County General Hospital to the communicable diseases ward, filled with many child patients just like him.  As his condition deteriorated, he underwent a painful spinal tap, a tracheotomy and was put on a respirator.  All this without ever being told exactly what it was he had or what he could expect.  He was later transferred to Rancho Los Amigos Hospital in Downey, California, which was located in our hometown.  (“Rancho,” as it has come to be known, became the hub of polio treatment and continues to this day to be an important center for rehabilitation for spinal cord injuries and other neurological conditions.)

Richard spent many months in an iron lung, the tank-like device that breathed for him because he couldn’t do that for himself.  Eventually, he regained that ability and was finally allowed to return home.  He wore a full set of leg braces on each leg, enabling him to walk, but with difficulty.  He graduated from high school in 1959.  Because of his disability, he was prevented from working full-time but made up for that by becoming a writer for publications on medical disability issues and by working with medical students who needed to know more about polio and its effects. He is also president of The Amigos Fund which raises money for patient care at Rancho Los Amigos Hospital.

Despite all that polio took away from him, he still remained a positive and optimistic person.  However, in the 1980’s Richard encountered something that had begun to affect many polio survivors:  post-polio syndrome, or the onset of deterioration of the muscles and nerves that had been affected in the initial disease.  There are several theories about the cause of this, from the over-use of muscles compensating for the effects of polio to a possible reawakening of the virus responsible for the disease.  Whatever the reason, currently there are over 1.1 million polio survivors living in the U.S. and many are facing the same situation.  Richard subsquently required an electric wheelchair in order to be able to get around.  He also had to have another tracheotomy so he could use a portable respirator.

In one of those strange flukes that are so common now with the advent of the internet and “Googling,” I connected with Richard after all these years and found that he is president of a non-profit organization called The Polio Survivors Association.  His website is www.polioassociation.org.  It provides much needed information about post-polio syndrome to anyone who is interested.  There is also a forum for survivors run by the Salk Institute called Polio Today at www.poliotoday.org.  

The average age of polio survivors is about 64.  The doctors who initially treated these patients are gone now, leaving a void in the understanding about the vagaries of this disease and its aftermath.  Richard will be celebrating his 70th birthday in June and remains an upbeat person, even while facing the loss of all the triumphs over polio he fought so hard for in the past. 

Here is a brief video slide show set to music which he created for YouTube about his experience with polio.  Please take a moment to watch it and then give thanks for your health and for those determined people who pioneered the polio vaccine. Unfortunately, many parents today take this for granted and are against vaccinating their children for any childhood illnesses. 

They need to watch Richard’s story and reflect on the lessons it holds for us all.


Tag…I’m It!

Thanks to Natalie over at Knatolee’s World, I’ve been “tagged”—meaning:

1. Open your 1st Photo folder.
2. Scroll to the 10th photo.
3. Post the photo and the story behind it.               

4. Tag 5 or more people.

When it became obvious my old computer was on its last legs, I did a little advanced planning and copied all of my photos off the hard drive onto CDs so I wouldn’t lose them if the whole thing came crashing down. 

Now that I have a new computer (with Windows 7—hurrah!) I’ve put back just a couple of the photo folders that I took out, with most of the pics being artsy stuff I’d been saving, so there wasn’t a whole lot of personal photos to go to for this challenge.  I did manage to locate this one pic (by counting backwards to the tenth photo) in my Misc. folder. 

So here it is, folks.  Prom night 1965.

Can you believe that hair?  I have always been a short hair person (to this day), but my boyfriend at the time (later to become my Starter Husband) wanted me to grow it, so like an idiot, I did.  My sister-in-law was a cosmetologist, so she did my hair for the big night.  I think a flock of sparrows could have nested in it very comfortably.

I loved the dress (still do.)  It was very “Jackie Kennedy” in its simplicity and cut.  It was kind of a cotton pique fabric, bow at the waist in front, bateau neckline and it had two panels in the back that went from the waist to the hem, with the undersides composed of pale blue satin.  Divine…

I no longer have that dress.  (As if it’d still fit.  Two kids and gravity have taken care of that!)  I think my mother eventually gave it to a friend for her daughter to wear.  I hope she loved it as much as I did.

In this photo I’m standing in our living room in Downey, California, just before my date arrived.  He wasn’t my Starter Husband, though.  Starter had taken me to his prom the year before (he went to the other high school in town and was a year older than I) and his mother had put her foot down about him spending additional cash on another soiree.  (Or so he told me….hmmm…..maybe that was something I should have been suspicious about…haha.) 

My date was a surfer dude I had gotten to know at my school.  A nice guy named Kurt who took me to dinner at the (then) somewhat swanky restaurant at the Los Angeles International Airport in the futuristic theme building (built in 1961) that has become kind of an icon.  (I think in recent years they’ve renovated it and reopened the restaurant.)  We had a very nice time, but that was the only time we went out on a date.  After we graduated, we went our separate ways. 

The rest, as they say, is history…..

So, my turn to “tag”!  I tag:


Moe at Whatever Works

True Blue Texan

Mr. Blog’s Tepid Ride

Trailer Park Refugee


A “Shee-itty” Day.

I’ve written before about the terrors of women’s try-on rooms in department stores.  (See “Does This Teacher Make My Butt Look Big?” for the gory details.) 

But I’d like to revisit that territory today because I was, once again, in a store fitting room confronting my image in the mirror.  This time was a bit more pleasant because I actually was successful (!) in my quest to find something I liked that seemed to fit and didn’t cause me too much anguish in the process.

However, the lady in the room next to me had to have been experiencing a more trying situation.  (They don’t call it the try-on room for nothing.  You try and try and if you get lucky, something might fit.)  Time and again I heard the clack of a hanger being put back on one of those metal hooks, accompanied by a defeated sigh that sounded like a combination of frustration and despair.  The first time I heard it, I just attributed it to possibly fatigue on the part of the lady.  But it continued with one article of clothing after another. 

I certainly felt sympathy toward whomever was in the cramped room next to me, but I also had to smile because it reminded me of a shopping excursion with my mother when I was probably around twelve or thirteen.

I don’t remember which store we were in, but memory (such as it is) seems to indicate it wasn’t exactly what you’d call a “high end” department  store. 

Back in the late fifties, our usual haunt was the Stonewood Shopping Center in Downey, California.  It could be considered a pre-cursor to the big indoor malls that everyone is familiar with now.  In those days it was just a collection of separate stores under one roof and not enclosed like today’s malls.

I think we were in one of the “cheapo” stores like Woolworth’s, but I can’t imagine why we would be in the dressing room there unless they were having a real good bargain on training bras or something.  At that age, I hardly needed one, with a bra size of 28AAA—which translates to “barely discernible to the naked eye.” 

But, in the tween-ager, hope—and hopefully, breast buds—spring eternal.

At any rate, we were crammed together in a little dressing room which was quite warm and littered with straight pins and cardboard collar inserts.  A woman and at least two little kids were in the room next to us.  Apparently the adorable tykes were acting up that day and most likely had just had a head-banging fit in Ladies’ Foundations.  The poor woman was attempting to try on some clothes but the combination of unruly kids and ill-fitting clothing just got the better of her. 

The kids were wailing and fighting, and in between the tussling we would hear their mother’s running dialogue, mainly consisting of the words “Weell, shee-it-uh! in a kind of whine.  (My mother and I marveled at the way she could draw out that one syllable word into three distinct parts.)  The woman had a twangy accent so the “Weell” started out in a higher register than rest of the epithet, and the final “uh” sort of dropped off a breathy precipice.

She continued to talk over the din of the kiddies. “Here ah jest wonted tuh trah on sum clothes, and you jest…” and then she would be overcome with frustration and interject “Weell, shee-it-uh!when words failed her.  This went on the whole time we were in our dressing room until we finally decided to leave before we all came out of our rooms at the same time.  A situation my mother thought might be embarrassing for our embattled neighbor.  But then, maybe not.

It’s not that we didn’t feel sorry for her and her plight, but it all seemed so funny at the time.  When I became a mother, I ruefully came to appreciate her suffering. 

Karmic payback can be ironic that way.

Anyway, the lady’s lament went on to become a catch-phrase between my mother and me.  Whenever things were going wrong or something got out of hand, we would say “Weell, shee-it-uh! and there would be instant understanding between us.


Blast from the Past

I watched the Rose Parade this morning on t.v. in high definition for the first time and was really blown away by the experience.  Amazing detail! 

Even better, the city in So. California where I grew up, Downey, won the Founders Trophy for best float created entirely by community effort. 

Here’s the artist rendering of that float:

When I was a senior in high school, back in the Stone Age of 1965, my friend, Penny, was chosen as a princess for the Miss Downey Court and was lucky enough to ride on the Rose Parade float for that year. 

Lyndon Johnson was President at the time and had amused (and appalled) folks when he used to demonstrate how he pulled the ears of his beagle dogs— lifting their front paws off the ground.  (He said they liked it….hmmm.) 

So the float for ’65 was, naturally, a beagle with a huge cowboy hat.  The dog’s eyes were all googly from having its ears yanked and the title of the float was “Ouch!” 

I found a faded photo of it on the Downey Rose Float Association website:

Downey, by the way,  is well-known for having the oldest McDonald’s restaurant in the country. The 1953 McDonald’s restaurant at 10207 Lakewood Blvd. (at Florence Ave.) was the third franchised McDonald’s built and is the oldest surviving McDonald’s. It was listed on the National Trust for Historic Preservation’s 1994 list of the 11 Most Endangered Historic Places. It was one of the first restaurants franchised by Dick and Mac McDonald, prior to the involvement of Ray Kroc in the company, and it still has the original “Golden arches” and a 60-foot animated neon “Speedee” sign.

With low sales, damage from the 1994 Northridge earthquake, and the lack of a drive-up window and indoor seating, the restaurant was closed. However with both the public and preservationists demanding the restaurant be saved, McDonald’s spent two years restoring the restaurant and reopened it. Customers today can visit the original restaurant and an adjoining gift shop and museum.

I had many a meal from that place when I was a young’un!  The funny thing is, when my husband and I take our grandkids to the McDonald’s here in Texas, there are photos of this one in Downey on the wall next to our favorite booth!  Looking at them always gives me a “Twilight Zone” feeling.  Here I am, in a McDonald’s in central Texas with my grandkids, looking at photos on the wall that just happen to be of the McDonald’s I used to frequent in California in the ’50s and ’60s. 

I think it would make Rod Serling proud…