A Spoonful of Sugar

the country. The doctors initially thought it might be a polio outbreak, but quickly realized they were wrong. They had been witnessing a lot of strange and scary things during Prohibition. It was a time of loopholes. People could no longer get alcohol from stores or bars, but they could own it. This led to a lot of bootlegging, sure, but also a lot of trips to the pharmacy. You see throughout history many medicines had some kind of alcohol in them.

Even during Prohibition, doctors were allowed to prescribe alcohol in good faith when he was in New York City, Winston Churchill famously suffered a minor blow when hit by a car. The cure eight fluid ounces of liquor per day, according to his doctor. These prescriptions were quick and easy income for those doling them out and for those who couldn't get a script, and there weren't too many. Over the

counter options were a popular salve. Jamaican ginger, which was mostly just ginger flavored alcohol, was a national favorite for all kinds of everyday ailments. But with the Prohibitionary Volstead Act came the order for the makers of the tonic to reduce the amount of alcohol and double the ginger. The result was a sticky, bitter black syrup that in no way quenched anyone's palate. Two enterprising men set out

to fix this. Harry Gross and Max Riseman, two brothers in law from Boston, chose a chemical known as triortho creusal phosphate or the brand name Lindall to spike and repackage the syrup. With the compound was odorless and tasteless, but used as an additive in manufacturing laquers, not liquors. However, the manufacturer assured them it was safe for human consumption. They marketed the product as ginger Jake, but because Lindall was in fact a slow acting neurotoxin, a sweeping sickness began.

In a few months time. From Kansas to Georgia, nearly fifty thousand adults were struck by an onset of neurological symptoms. They reported numbness, paralysis, and that same strained walk, and the latter got nicknamed jake leg, jakefoot, and gingerfoot and then some The Food and Drug Administration could do little. They were underfunded and understaffed. The investigation was handed over to the Treasury Department, which went on to arrest scores

of bootleggers and pharmacists. At the end of it, Harry and Max were discovered to be the culprits of the epidemic and arrested for, of all things, misbranding a product. But their sentences were suspended and they more or less got a stern talking to, and the Ginger Jake survivors they lived out the rest of their days bearing the physical consequences of Max and Harry's greed. I'm Lorn Vogelbaum. Welcome to American Shadows. When we talk about snake oil.

Today we think of hucksters and fraudsters and their colorful claims, But snake oil, the real snake oil, was a legitimate product until Clark Stanley showed up. He called himself the Rattlesnake King, saying that he learned of the snake's healing secrets from a Hope medicine man. In actuality, he ripped his inspiration from the Chinese immigrants working on the Transcontinental Railroad.

They brought with them a salve made from the oil of the Chinese water snake, used for its anti inflammatory properties. Clark knew that he couldn't make a buck selling potions and promises to unsuspecting customers. All he needed was a good pitch. He was no doctor, but being a salesman got him a long way. Once upon a time, folk medicine and common sense were used to treat most ailments.

People took care of their loved ones, but in the dire cases a country doctor who may also be a pastor or a veterinarian in a spare time might be called. But with the Civil War came a great leap in medical technology. For a long time, battlefield surgeons and medics tried to keep up, but they simply didn't have the tools, knowledge,

or people power to care for all the troops. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers died, but their deaths wouldn't be in vain, though not for the patriotic and principled reasons you might imagine, as it would end up twice as many soldiers died from disease as from battle wounds, and because of this there were more bodies at the disposal

of curious minds than ever before. The Surgeon General called for his officers to collect and send over any bits and pieces of battlefield epemera of body parts ballistics that might be worth studying. Out of these specimens, an Army medical museum was created for educational purposes. And as for the people who made it home from the battle front, they were pitched into the throes of what would become America's first opioid crisis. This was no push drummed up

by big pharma. It was instigated by the Union itself. The Army had doled out nearly ten million opium pills to its soldiers and almost three million ounces of powdered opium and tinctures. The goal was to alleviate suffering, especially for those experiencing the long lasting physical effects of war, and when those pills ran out, the veterans turned to morphine, a drug that was readily available in almost every doctors satchel.

It was used for everyday ailments, and by the eighteen nineties it's estimated that one in two hundred Americans were addicted, and many of the people struggling with addiction were, much to the establishment's chagrin, women. People were becoming aware of how dangerous opiates were, but because they were such a profitable source of income, many doctors were slow to cease

writing scripts. One German pharmaceutical company offered their own sell to the epidemic, a Coff's present and chemical modification of morphine they called heroine, and as we know by now, people took to it in ways they never could have imagined. Clark Stanley, with his rattlesteak oil, wanted in on this market of people searching for cures. He showed up at the eighteen ninety three Chicago World's Fair with a gruesome

marketing pitch. The captivated audience watched as he snatched a live snake from a bag, slid it open and tossed it into a boiling pot. He then skimmed the oil off the top, packaging it right up, and selling it from his platform to the clamoring audience. In actuality, this poor snake had no healing properties, and neither did its oil. But soon Clark's oil was all over the market, thanks to door to door salesmen and boots at county fairs, and nothing more than a blend of beef, fat, turpentine

and red pepper. In its own way, the world of food and medicine was the wild West. It was an unregulated landscape marked by hucksters and frauds and no oversight. People could claim what they wanted, sell what they wanted, and tell people exactly what they wanted to hear. The general public was privy to this, and though they wanted to believe in these products, they had to be skeptical

and their lives depended on it. In the early nineteen hundreds, concerned citizens, led by women, banded together in favor of a pure food bill, lobbying for the safety of their families. A moment of triumph came with the passing of the Pure Food and Drug Act of nineteen o six with the creation of what would eventually become the US Food

and Drug Administration. It seemed like things were going to get better, but in actuality this would take a very long time, and with more lives lost along the way. Francis sat at her desk, ready to tackle the applications in front of her. She had her notepads and her pile of pens. She had the confidence of her mentor and the US government. Her tenacity and intellect had long guided her, and it had gotten her thus far. Even

though she didn't have a uniform or a badge. She was on the front line of defense and the clock was ticking and unforgiving. Sitting in her office at the Food and Drug Administration, Francis was under the gun, and she knew the consequences could be deadly. For centuries, drug producers had been getting away with big claims. Their products, known as patent medicines, were in effect brilliant exercises in the seductive power of marketing. They were advertised on posters

in newspapers and magazines and flyers. They were pushed by travel lling vaudeville style shows and door to door salesmen. These drug makers leaned heavily into the world of spectacle and miracles, and they often bulked at the most basic of safety measures, such as listing ingredients on their labels, testing their products, or not flagrantly putting toxins into the mouths of unsuspecting people. Such was the world that Francis,

born in nineteen fourteen, had grown up in. She had always known that she had wanted to become some kind of scientist. She was applying to pH d programs just as the Great Depression hit, and knew that many schools were terribly inclined to take women. Still, she applied to the new pharmacology department at the University of Chicago and received an acceptance letter back addressed to a mister Francis Oldham,

and she took the posting. She arrived in Chicago in nineteen thirty seven, right on time to take on a new wonder drug named Elixirs self nildamined, which was suspected of causing the deaths of more than one hundred people, and most of those dead turned out to be children. The public was incensed, and Francis had a new assignment figure out where this drug was going wrong. Francis launched headlong into her lab work and meticulously splice in part

the chemical compound. What she found was surprising. In its original form, the drug was supremely effective in fighting off bacterial infections, but the makers had misstepped when they created a liquid, cherry flavored children's version. The Francis and her lab mates realized, to their horror that a compound found in that version of the elixir was usually used as an anti freeze and is a deadly poison. The drug's manufacturer was slapped with a fine, not for the resulting

deaths of consumers, but for mislabeling their product. You see, they were not required to demonstrate the products safety before it hit the market, but because an elixir by definition contained alcohol, and there was no alcohol present in this liquid drug, they were caught on a technicality. The general public was outraged. In nineteen thirty eight, the Food, Drug and Cosmetic Act was signed into law by Franklin Delano Roosevelt, which allowed the FDA to require pre market approval of

all new drugs. This was a huge success for the lab and the feather in Francis's cap. Now they just needed to figure out how this would work in practice. For many years to come, the FDA would be understaffed and underfunded. Francis Oldham Kelsey, married to another scientist in nineteen forty three, was later invited to join the FDA's

new Pharmacology Center in nineteen sixty. She was known to be a talented analyst and was tasked with reviewing reams of applications from pharmaceutical companies a new drugs they wanted to sell, But her team was small. She was one of just seven full time reviewers whose job it was to keep the general public safe from predatory, money hungry drug companies. But the greatest kink in the process was time.

The Francis and her team had a sixty day window for approving or rejecting a drug, and if they couldn't work fast enough, the drug would automatically go to market. In her office, she stared down at an application for a drug called by the brand name Kevidon. It was German in origin, having first appeared on the European market under a couple of other brand names, but the drug's generic name was belittamide. She had heard of it before. It had been used for sleeplessness and upset stomach over

the counter even since the nineteen fifties. Some of you have probably heard of it too, But this drug's dark backstory and what it was capable of would take decades to unravel. The company that produced the litamide, Richardson Merrill, wanted FDA approval, and they wanted it badly. Their warehouses were stockpiled with the stuff waiting for the green light to go to market. They assumed that the approval would come fast and easy, and that they'd make good money

in the process. The application for the lidamine was glowing. It included scores of rave reviews touting all the healing properties that a wonder drug could hold, and was especially popular for treating morning sickness during pregnancy. Richardson Merrill promised that the drug was non addictive, non toxic, and had absolutely no side effects. That last claim, bold and brash, was immediately suspect for Francis. The company couldn't have thrown

up more red flags if they'd tried. It was a tale as old as advertising, big claims and empty promises. She dove in. What she saw in the application, or rather bidn't see, was cause for alarm. There just wasn't enough information there about any clinical trials to substantiate these big claims. There were no physicians reports, just glowing praise from supposed users. In fact, there was nothing objective to be had, so she denied the application and sent back

her request for more information. In short order, she received back another stack of paperwork from Richardson Merrill, but the additional information they provided was simply more testimonials. Francis simply rejected them again. That's when the trouble began to brew. Richardson Merrill refused to take no for an answer. They called, they wrote, they visited her lab. They put the pressure on. She rejected their application a third time, pressing them on

the question of potential side effects during pregnancy. They assured her the drug was safe, and after going over her head to the boss, made the concession of allowing warning labels to be put on the pills bottles. But to Francis this was a meaningless concession. She didn't want to take their word for anything. It was when she came across a letter in the British Medical Journal that she

knew she was on the right track. The letter was damning, writing about his concern a doctor reported painful pins and needle sensations frequently experienced by those he had prescribed the drug to. Long term, then came a trickle of similar reports documenting cases of bodily numbness, in patience, and severe

birth defects in their babies. The pharmaceutical company knew about the potential for nerve damage, but then neglected to do any studies in pregnant patients or even in pregnant animal other than humans, and what little they did know, they hid and pushed the drug to market. Even darker still, belitamide has roots in the Holocaust. In the shadow of World War II, twin brothers Hermann and Alfred Wurtz created

a company called Kemy Grunenthal. It became a haven for Nazi scientists who had spent the last few years experimenting on captives at concentration camps. The brothers hired Martin Stemler, who was a lead thinker on the Nazi population policy and racial hygiene program. A fancy way of saying he got to choose whether people lived or died. They also brought in Heinrich Muktar, an expert on anti typhus work and single handedly responsible for scores of deaths across the

concentration camps and ghettos. And finally there was Otto Ambrose, who had been given the nickname the Devil's Chemist. He was Adolf Hitler's chief chemical weapons engineer and was brought on as the chairman of Grunenthal's advisory board. Ambrose was known for his work with a nerve toxin called serin.

If you recall the horrifying stories of the gas chambers used to execute millions at these camps, then you know this chemical an antidote was developed, and this drug, later claimed by Grunenthal to have been created before World War II, was Deldamite. In a potential effort to cover up the drug's dark past, the company didn't release records of its early trials, but documentation from the camps later revealed its

extensive testing. They knew it was an effective sedative and also calmed upset stomachs, so they brought it to market in dozens of countries in the mid nineteen fifties, But soon a wave of birth effects began appearing. Doctors were seeing underdeveloped or missing limbs and defects in the internal organs. It would later be found to the pill was enough to harm i fetis, and some mothers were taking several

a day. The first child thought to be affected by this drug was in fact born to a Kemi Grunenthal employee. It didn't stop until nineteen sixty one, another concerned doctor published a bombshell letter in the medical journal The Lancet linking the lidamide to these horrific birth defects. Grunenthal could no longer deny the claims, and the company removed the drug from the market that year, but no one was ever charged. It's believed that over eight thousand babies with

severe delamide birth defects were born worldwide. No one knows how many tens of thousands more died in the womb or shortly after birth. Seventeen of these claims were confirmed to be linked to Richardson Merrill, who was so excited to get their wonder drug de litamide to market, prematurely

distributed the pills to doctor's offices. If Francis didn't get a chance to deny the application for a four worth time, because Richardson Merrill withdrew it once and for all, the link between this drug and this harm came too late for tens of thousands of families, but Francis had quietly saved thousands more by asking questions about what lay in

the shadows. Francis's career was ascendant. She became the new head of the Investigational Drug branch of the FDA and worked at the organization until she was ninety years old. She passed away at the age of one hundred and one in twenty sixteen. The latamaide and meanwhile is still around. In nineteen sixty four, a desperate doctor was trying to find relief for his leprosy patients. No painkillers were working. He knew the littemi hade caused birth defects, but no

one could deny its tranquilizing properties. He was surprised to see that, within three days of administering the drug, all of his patient's skin lesions had healed. By the nineteen seventies, the drug was approved on an experimental basis by the FDA to treat inflammatory skin conditions. Since then, it's been used for symptoms related to HIV, IBS, arthritis, and lupis. Recently, it's been found successful in treating multiple myeloma blood cancer.

Philidamide is finally doing some good in the world. Now that it's finally undergoing the research the Kemi Grunenthal neglected so many decades ago, There's more to this story. Stick around after this brief sponsor break to hear all about it. Jeffrey Sherman was one of the lucky kids. He was just five years old and so excited to tell his dad about what had happened at Scoll that day. Just a few years earlier, people had been living in fear of the virus. They were getting sick and staying sick.

Every summer brought with it about of new outbreaks, and parents couldn't help but worry. Kids were especially susceptible to the havoc the polio wrought. The virus, made famous by President Franklin D. Roosevelt, was thought to be a childhood disease. While many children ended up being okay, others would suffer the rest of their lives from damage to their central nervous system. Some were permanently paralyzed and some died. But by nineteen fifty four a solution had finally been found.

That year, mass andoculations proved to be highly successful. By August of nineteen fifty five, more than four million doses had been given, and one of the best ways to get these shots into the arms of kids was to give them in school, as if pop quizzes weren't scared enough. Doctor Albert Saban, though, had a less fearsome solution. He was working on an oral vaccine, one that would be

able to be administered more easily. When Jeffrey got back from school, he had a story, but his dad was distracted. Work wasn't going well. Robert Sherman was in the midst of a crippling bout of writer's block, brought on by the high stress of meeting a perfect deliverable. His boss had hand picked him for the job, and no one wanted to disappoint Walt Disney. Humoring his son, Robert asked him to tell him about getting the shot, and Jeffrey quickly corrected him, but he told his dad that it

wasn't a shot. Instead, the nurse gave him a little sugar cube with a drop of medicine on it, and he got to eat it. Robert abruptly halted. It came to him he had an idea. He quickly called his brother, a fellow songwriter working on the New Disney movie. One of their tunes had been scrapped and they couldn't figure out how to replace it. Nothing was landing. Mistakes forgetting this new film right were very, very high. Robert got back to work. He started scratching at a piece of

paper and beget a masterpiece. Mary Poppins arrived in theaters in nineteen sixty four. She brought with her an iconic parasol in words of wisdom, including if you can remember the idea that just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.