Diamond Match Company and Phossy Jaw

 

Sometimes when I visit a state park I happen to catch some history on the place. And sometimes that history triggers a desire to know more about what life used to be like as compared to how it is now. 

While researching information on Southford Falls State Park in Southbury, CT. I came across a reference to the Diamond Match Company. It was just a brief mention that the Diamond Match Company used to own the property and that there also used to be several different kinds of mills in the town of Southbury over its long history. That was enough to peak my curiosity so I started to look up information on the Diamond Match Company.

 One of the first things I found out was that matches were a highly competitive manufacturing item world wide back in the 1800's. The Diamond Match Company was extremely industrious and as many other companies went out of business or were taken over by other match companies, the Diamond Match Co survived and to this day Diamond produces all the box matches in the United States. (hmmmm...didn't we learn in school that is called a monopoly?)

 And there is a lot more information out there about the Diamond Match Company but that's the kind of stuff you can find on any company. What REALLY caught my attention was something called Phossy Jaw that kept popping up in association with the Diamond Match Company. And this is what I found out about Phossy jaw.

Phossy jaw...pronounced like: Fosi jaw.  Phossy is a shortened form of the word phosphorous which is a poisonous chemical used to make match heads. Can you tell where this is going now?

In 1830, the French chemist, Charles Sauria, created a match made with white phosphorous. Sauria's matches had no odor, but they made people sick with an ailment dubbed "phossy jaw". White phosphorous is poisonous.

 Yes, the Diamond Match Company along with every other match company in business in the 1800's was using a chemical called white phosphorous (sometimes also called yellow phosphorous) which was highly poisonous and for quite some time they knew it. People were dying from working at the companies that made these matches....lots of people and for a long, long time.They first became aware of it in England and other countries outside of the US. Many of the people dying were woman and children which is probably why it was ignored for so long or considered a necessary evil by-product of the trade. Keep in mind this is also around the time when children were working in the cotton mills in England and dying on a regular basis because they worked such long hours they would fall asleep and fall into the machinery. The mills needed the little fingers and nimble bodies of young children to untangle the threads and often arms; legs and fingers were lost in the process. These children died horrible deaths if they were even lucky enough to die outright. Many were also maimed for life and destined to become beggars on the streets or a burden to their families as a result. Little or no compensation was given to the family of any child maimed or killed in the mills. Life was very very hard in those days. 

It wasn't until 1855 that safety matches were patented by Johan Edvard Lundstrom of Sweden. Lundstrom put RED phosphorus on the sandpaper outside the box and the other ingredients on the match head, solving the problem of "phossy jaw" and creating a match that could only be safely lit off the prepared, special striking, surface. 

Now this means that for 25 yrs they were knowingly using the white phosphorous that was poisonous. And red phosphorous was only LESS poisonous, not non-poisonous. But it was deemed sufficient to correct the problem and business resumed as normal. 

Finally in 1910 the Diamond Match Company patented the first nonpoisonous match in the U.S., which used a safe chemical called sesquisulfide of phophorous.

The United States President William H. Taft publicly asked Diamond Match to release their patent for the good of mankind. They did on January 28, 1911, Congress placed a high tax on matches made with white phosphorous which effectively stopped production being made with that chemical.

This is what anyone who contracted Phossy Jaw could expect to suffer:

Symptoms of Phossy Jaw:

Those with phossy jaw would begin suffering painful toothaches and swelling of the gums. Over time, the jaw bone would begin to abscess. Affected bones would glow a greenish-white color in the dark. It also caused serious brain damage. Surgical removal of the afflicted jaw bones could save the patient; otherwise, death from organ failure would follow. The disease was extremely painful and disfiguring to the patient, with dying bone tissue rotting away accompanied by a foul-smelling discharge.

 Those most quickly affected were the workers who dipped the sticks into the phosphorus paste. Direct contact with the phosphorus paste may have contributed but the dipping rooms of these factories often were poorly ventilated and filled with dense vapor. But the workers, often children, who dried the matches, ejected them from the drying racks and those who packed the finished product eventually also developed the disease. The condition might develop slowly over years but in its final phase would run a course of 6-18 months and end with general debility, then "inflammation of the brain", convulsions and hemorrhage from the lungs.
  The saddest part of the whole story is that it all need not have happened! It was long known that the other form of phosphorus, red phosphorus, worked just as well in matches as white phosphorus. However, plentiful cheap labor, the absence of industrial health regulations and a profit-seeking mentality did not encourage the manufacturers to change to red phosphorus.

Southford Falls State Park

 Southford Falls State Park is located in Southbury, CT.  The park used to be the site of several mills and the Diamond Match Company many years ago. The park has an abundance of beautiful, solid stonework that has been carried over from it's history into modern times. 

 The horseshoe shaped falls are unusual and I was very impressed by it. But no matter where you look there is more stonework, not only lining the edges of the river but also pieces of remaining stone foundations to what must have been massive mill structures.

  There are trails that follow the river and lead in an upward climb to a viewing tower. We didn't go as far as the tower but we did come across what I called 'the stairs that lead to nowhere', which must have been part of an outer section of the foundation. I rather liked this area but I can't say exactly why. I just liked the idea of a set of rustic stone stairs that go nowhere.  
But that's not all this park had going for it. It had a covered bridge at the beginning of the trail and fascinating tree that had somehow grown into a circle shape...whether by natural or artificial means...it was 'the loopy tree'(my name for it).  

 And if these types of views aren't enough to keep you happy at the park, well there is fishing to be done. As a matter of fact this park is a regularly stocked trout park. And while that doesn't float my boat in the least, there were quite a few people sprinkled around the pond area with fishing rods in the water. I never saw anyone catch anything but they were trying.    My sister Bunny is in the photo below, posing on the board walk that follows along a section of the river as well. 
Overall the park is quite beautiful and a perfect place to have a picnic lunch; doing a little fishing or even just take a nap outside in the sunshine. 

My Friend Carol

I always knew Carol was pretty much the opposite of me. I love to hike....she hated it. I wore hiking shoes to hike, she wore high heeled sandals.I love to kayak and she complained about the paddling and couldn't understand why her kayak kept going in the wrong direction. She loved to sit at a big bonfire, drinking a beer; laughing and talking with friends. I'd complain about smelling like fire when I went home that night. She loved to lay in the sun and I complained about hot flashes. She talked about us buying a farm together and I kept telling her it was too much work for the couple of old ladies we intended to be. She'd scold me for being too practical and not living the dream and I'd tell her she was dreaming too much and ask her who was going to weed all those plants we were going to grow on that farm. 

She loved Halloween because it encouraged the little girl in her to come up with costumes every year. Halloween was the only holiday that allowed her to be anything she wanted to be for that space in time. Many have seen her appear as a flapper; a little old lady; a hippie; a cow girl and an angel...that turned into a devil as the night went on. She lived for the fun of the evening and sharing that with her friends. We had the love of costumes in common. She never had to drag me there...I was always willing to go. 

Carol was wildly inappropriate at times and would talk much too loudly about things most people wouldn't even bring up in public. She was never embarrassed by this but often the people she was with would be. But that was just Carol and we loved her anyway. She'd dress outlandishly with plenty of makeup and enough bling to blind you if you looked directly at her too long. And that too was just Carol; part of her personality that you either loved or you didn't but it was what she was all about. And sometimes when she'd drink a little too much she'd dance with her eyes closed and one arm up in the air with her hand bopping in time to the music and we'd laugh because she looked so funny doing it....but she didn't care and in a little while she'd be back up on the dance floor doing it again.  

But it wasn't just fun and games with Carol. There was much more to her. She was the one that was there for me when I needed her. When my father died and I was so depressed she came and sat next to my garden drinking a beer, talking to me and asking me questions, making me talk while I worked in my garden. Gardening made me feel closer to him. She may or may not have understood that..it didn't matter. She knew her friend was hurting and that's why she was there. 

And when I had my foot surgery and was stuck at home in so much pain, she'd call every day and come over and make fun of me on my scooter. She found small art shows and made me go to them; haunted houses and Halloween displays and made me go to them too. She didn't leave me alone and wouldn't let me be depressed, but instead never took no for an answer and dragged me from one thing to another no matter what I said. How could anyone not love her for that?

The truth is that even though most of her close friends took care of Carol at one time or another, and often got her out of a jam, sometimes only to see her fumbling against that rock and a hard place, it wasn't all one sided. She was there for every one of us when we needed it too. She may not have known exactly what you needed but her concern and caring were very evident and we were always better for it. There was never any question that she cared about you very much. 

Another truth about Carol is she always managed to be happy no matter where she was in her life. No matter what knocked her down she'd always scramble back up again. She dreamed big and held on to those dreams no matter how impractical they may have seemed to any of us. She was a true optimist and never wasted much time being down. And it was this eternal optimism and her warm sense of caring that drew people to her. It drew me to her too even though on the surface it would appear we had nothing in common. She was a necessary opposite; the balance in my life and I like to think I was a sort of rudder in her life, trying to steer her away from the rocks. So despite her tendency to be flamboyant, fun loving and a little bit crazy, I appreciated her friendship in so many ways for so many years and we did actually compliment each others quirks throughout our 30 year friendship.  

When Carol ended up in the hospital for the last time we were all taken by surprise. Everyone had the same thought on their mind, including Carol....we thought she'd have more time. But cancer makes its own rules and Carol's time was up. We had to face it and so did she. People kept saying how great it was that I was with her as much as I was, when really I couldn't imagine doing anything else. And a part of me always felt a little miffed when they'd say that....like I was looking for a pat on the back for being there? She was my best friend, my sister by choice, my playmate in a bitter, brutal world. Of course I would be with her to the end. It would be unthinkable not to do this for her. And she would do the same for me. 

We didn't speak much about the realities of her situation because neither one of us could change the outcome and we knew it. Carol told me early on in her cancer that she was terrified. That's all she had to say. I was in for the long haul anyway and I knew that underneath the strong, independent woman was a scared little girl that I wasn't going to let down. I couldn't stand the thought of her being afraid. 

Along with all the horrors of watching cancer take over my friends brain; liver and pancreas I had a front row seat to see her family as their true selves. I never knew any of them very well but I knew many details to their lives because Carol told me everything all the time. That's what best friends do....they tell each other everything. 

 To say I was disappointed by them collectively is a huge understatement. I was horrified by their tears and concern one minute and their brutal dissection of her goods the next minute. The calculating of the value of items thought to be in her apartment but not yet found, the daily visits for rummaging purposes while she lay in the hospital dying, crying one minute and bickering over certain items the next; taking things before they got 'stolen' which in reality meant they were just stealing it first. Smiling to my face and expressing kinds words, then saying behind my back that items Carol wanted me to have, I had no NEED for and therefore they would be better served in someone else's hands.

 Everything that Carol ever told me would happen when she died has indeed come true. She knew they would take what they want and throw everything she ever cared about in a large dumpster. And that's exactly what they did; little or no attempt being made to donate to charity despite my repeated offers to collect and donate the items for them. Some of her 'friends' (vultures for the most part) were diligently digging for items they would keep; snapping at each other over items that were missing; spreading suspicion that other friends may have helped themselves while they still had Carol's key; and ever ready to mock me if I showed weakness by having a tendency to cry at what I was witnessing. 

 Her dog Teddy became the only thing of importance to me and he eventually went home to live with Carol's ex-husband, Tom. Tom was the only other person I actually trusted in this cyclone of misery. Thankfully Carol had the good sense to make Tom the sole beneficiary of her life insurance policy regardless of the many protests from her family. That was the best move she ever made. 

Now that Carol is gone, I miss her overly loud and completely inappropriate statements at the worst possible moments. I miss seeing other people's reaction to her when they first meet her (that was always good for a laugh).  I miss her love affair with bold colored nail polish and false eyelashes. I will never pass a jewelry counter of 'shiny stuff 'or a mannequin wearing something made of faux fur without thinking of her. And when I hear 'the oldies' I will always see Carol dancing her quirky dance in my minds eye. The nightly (sometimes multiple) phone calls from her are the hardest to get over. And I find myself thinking 'oh I have to tell Carol about this'...only to realize I can't do that anymore. I have an ache in my heart that belongs to her and Halloween will never be the same again. We will never own that farm together and bicker over who's turn it is to weed the garden. We will never be the two old ladies sitting in rocking chairs on the porch watching the world go by while keeping a verbal commentary going on everything we see. Her dog is safe and happy with Tom. And I will have to learn not to look for her light to be on at her apartment when I drive by.

She was sincere. She was unique. She was my best friend. I will miss her for the rest of my days.