Today’s Wiped-Out Yet Truly Morbid Fact!
October 25, 1956, began as an ordinary day for the Hammes family of Keota, Iowa. Father Richard and his two oldest boys, nine-year-old twins Ronnie and Donnie, were up early doing farm chores, and mother Ruth was busy fixing breakfast and getting the six younger children dressed and ready. The twin boys, and their siblings Karrn, 8; Linda, 7; and six-year-old Gary all needed to be in school at nine A.M.
Since their father was busy in the cornfield, Ruth also packed the three youngest children into her 1953 Plymouth for the short trip to the school. The youngest were three-year-old Rosemary and another set of twins, Vicky and Ricky, just a year old.
The Hammes Family
To get to the school, Ruth had to cross the tracks at a rail crossing that was known as a difficult and dangerous one because of its poor visibility. A train was approaching the crossing and the engineer sounded his sirens, but he didn’t see the Plymouth until his train was just 150 feet from it, far too late to stop. Ruth Hammes would remember later that one of the children shouted a warning and she instinctively slammed on her brakes, stopping on the tracks. She would be haunted the rest of her life by the question of what would have happened if she hadn’t braked at that moment.
The train struck the car head-on and dragged it 700 feet down the tracks before it could stop. When Richard Hammes, alerted by a neighbor, got to the scene of the accident, he found Ruth sitting on the ground, badly bruised and cut, holding Vicky and Ricky. The two babies were dead, as were five of their other siblings. Ronnie was still alive, but he died at the hospital 90 minutes later. The accident is one of the worst in the history of the state of Iowa.
Richard and Ruth Hammes were devastated by the loss of their entire family, but their grief was alleviated somewhat by the birth of their son Myron in 1958. However, two years later, Ruth died of heart failure at the age of 42. She was pregnant at the time and the baby did not survive.
And twelve years later, in 1972, Richard Hammes was found dead near the river, having taken his own life by gunshot.
Culled from: The Keota Eagle
Submitted by: Aimee
Wretched Review!
So, while I was on a plane trip recently I actually finished a couple books. Here’s the first review:
Dr. Mütter’s Marvels: A True Tale of Intrigue and Innovation at the Dawn of Modern Medicine
by Cristin O’Keefe Aptowicz
Dr. Thomas Dent Mütter is best-known for starting the collection of medical curiosities that fill the museum in Philadelphia that bears his name. When I started reading this book, I thought I’d be learning about the curiosities themselves and how he managed to acquire them. I was surprised to realize that this book doesn’t really talk about that at all; it talks about Mütter, the man. And, far from being disappointed, I found myself captivated from start to finish.
Dr. Mütter is a new hero of mine, and not just because he founded the greatest museum in America. Mütter became a doctor in the early 19th century, when there really weren’t licenses given to doctors. Anyone could hang up a sign and call himself (only men, of course) a doctor. Mütter, however, took his surgical goals seriously and went to Paris to study the greatest surgeons in the world. He came back to America and helped to found the Jefferson Medical College in Philadelphia. Mütter was a technically brilliant surgeon, but it was his philosophy that stood out from his peers.
During the early 19th century, surgery was a brutal activity that was only undertaken in the most desperate of circumstances. There was no anesthesia so the best surgeons were the ones who worked the quickest. Patients were held down by a number of strong men as the surgery was performed. And the philosophy of the physicians was nearly as brutal as the surgery. They believed that patients should not be told of their conditions, that they should not be warned of the pain of surgery. They believed the patients were better off not knowing.
Additionally, the concept of cleanliness during surgeries was unknown at the time. Using the same dirty scalpels with unwashed hands from patient to patient was the normal practice, which led to abundant post-surgical sepsis fatalities. And after-care was unheard-of concept as well. When surgeries were performed on the poor in operating theaters, they were unceremoniously sent home to recover alone afterwards.
Dr. Mütter was appalled at these conditions. His was a voice of humble compassion in a den of arrogance. First, he believed that transparency was essential in all patient treatment. He told the patients the truth about their conditions, however grim, and explained in detail what he would be doing during surgery. He made sure they were aware of how painful it would be and he even massaged the areas in which he would be cutting to make the patient familiar with where the pain would be felt. He earned his patient’s trust and helped them along psychologically as well as physically.
He was also a fastidious man. I’d call him a dandy. He wore immaculate silk suits to his operations. Although no one was aware of the cause of infection, Dr. Mütter instinctively understood that cleanliness was important in the healing process. He made sure to wash his instruments and hands prior to every surgery – and his rate of infection was much lower than average.
Dr. Mütter also believed in after-care, insisting that Jefferson Medical College create a hospital in which to monitor the post-surgical recovery of patients. And he encouraged students to do hospital rounds and learn the importance of after-care as part of their education.
In addition, he was a pioneer in plastic surgery and was known for his groundbreaking work on burn victims. His techniques in skin grafting are still used today. He wanted to help people to live normal lives – assisting women who had been burned in kitchen accidents who could not even close their eyes or mouths due to the pull of the scar tissue to be able to experience the simple pleasure of being able to blink again.
He was also a pioneer in anesthesia techniques. Mütter wanted nothing more than to be able to help people in the best, most painless, and most compassionate manner. It’s really a pity that he isn’t known for more than just his collection of curiosities because what I came away with most of all was that Dr. Mütter was a true American hero.
I highly recommend this book. (5/5)