If It Walks Like a Duck...

Before government regulations, any fool could concoct a tonic or serum and tout it as a miracle solution for tuberculosis, cancer, colic, weak blood, thin hair, "lady troubles," or nervous conditions.

And so they did.

Quackery was rampant in 19th-century medicine. Elixirs, tonics, and nostrums such as "Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup" contained anything from alcohol to opiates to cocaine to arsenic, and were claimed as remedies for teething babies as well as weary or pain-wracked adults.

"Dr." I. H. Longdon was a real figure in Wheeling, WV in the 1870s and a master of self-promotion. For several years, he ran a successful "practice" buoyed by customer endorsements and ambitious promises — offering everything from bespoke elixirs to electromagnetic treatments.

Our Molly (see the previous blog post, "Ketta and her Ghosts") was among those who endorsed his miracles in the newspaper. This discovery sent the narrative of my book, Tangled Braid, into the realm of addiction and denial.

There is hardly a family or circle of friends today untouched by the siren song of substances that promise to relieve pain — and by the mire of addiction that can follow. Even after a century of research and regulation, we still struggle to identify and treat trauma and pain.

The dynamics have not changed much.

Eventually, the real Dr. Longdon ran off with a lover and died of an overdose in Youngstown, OH, according to the Wheeling newspapers. But the damage he inflicted on the countless people who placed their trust in his curatives is incalculable.