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100 Years Ago

Thursday, February 5, 1920


The disease is epidemic at this time in this county, and practically all other parts of the United States, entire families being reported sick with the disease. It is a winter disease, and every season sees its return in a more or less severe form.

The name “FLU” should be dropped from the vernacular, as it was under that name that the people of the world were terrorized in the great epidemic of 1918, the impression generally being fostered by the newspapers and the health authorities that it was some new and strange plague that afflicted a war-worn earth. A myth or hoodoo was thus created that did incalculable harm, fear of the disease lowering the power of resistance of many, who thus, unnecessarily succumbed. It is literally true, in the writer’s opinion, that many people when informed that they had contracted the “FLU,” turned their faces to the wall, and were soon no more.

The real dangers that follow influenza are pneumonia and pleurisy. These may largely be prevented by rest and warmth in the early stages of the disease. Stay in the house, preferably in bed, and keep the rooms comfortably warm, both day and night.
Most adult people have had the disease at least once before. School children seem most susceptible, as it is probable that partial immunity, at least, is conferred by one attack.

The advice of an optimist is to keep the feet dry, the spirit cheerful, reflect on your past life and your future state, and, if your constitution is reasonably sound, expect to weather this attack and regain health.

~N. R. Price, M.D.

I sat on the fence at midnight,
As the clocks were striking the hour,
And a voice rose over the city,
From under a gilded tower
And it said that H. C. Hoover,
Who had specialized in food,
Was the one man in a million,
The pick of a multitude.
Ability, he had in plenty,
Of politics, a trace,
And of all the men for President,
He fitted best the place.
And I found I was bewildered,
Why? Why? Was where I got,
Till I recalled the answer,
And that was the old Why Not?
And then I remembered something,
In the days of our discontent,
He was not at a loss for a minute,
Whatever he said, it went.
He never hedged or faltered,
He knew which turn to take
And forged ahead with precision
With the fate of man at stake.
But whoever, yes, whoever,
Has heard of a businessman
Who could beat the politicians
Who have always said, who ran.
But I thought of the many thousands
Of puzzled, bedeviled gents,
Who sat on the fence and welcomed
The World man’s eloquence.
And my misery has fallen from me,
I am feeling better, some.
I may have to vote for Hoover,
A Republican, by gum.

– – –

It may come to pass that Herbert Hoover will be the man. They have been hollering for a businessman for a long time and we were thinking that maybe they meant Charlie Schwab, but as the days go on, it looks like the businessmen of the country who won the war and got all the profits were grooming Hoover. It is somewhat curious to note the disgust of the politicians of both parties declaring that he has no political principles. There is no class on earth so little bothered with party principles as the successful politician.

It is not likely that the Republicans will consider Hoover as a possible nominee, and if the Democrats do nominate him, we can assure our Republican neighbors that they had better look to their defenses, for if the businessmen of the country unite under Hoover, there are enough business interests reaching down from the seats of the mighty into West Virginia to affect even our own rock-ribbed Republican State.

Of all the hundreds of expressions of opinion given to the press by eminent Democrats in the Hoover Boom, those that say that if Hoover is nominated by their party that they will do all they can to elect him, best express our sentiments.


On the works of the North Fork Lumber Company, Carl Rosberg, woods foreman, was instantly killed by a log. A body of men were working at a point on the slide where a trail of logs had jackpotted to one side and jumped the slide and piled into a tangled heap. While the men were working to get the logs straightened out under the direction of Rosberg, it was noticed that further up the hill a large white oak log had started down the slide and was coming at a great rate.

The men drew away to one side of the slide so as not to be in danger, but Rosberg stepped to the other side in a place considered especially safe as it had been prepared for a withdrawing place for teams to keep them safe while logs were running. The place was further protected by a large fallen tree that made a barrier on the danger side.

The big runaway log came on gathering speed and just before it reached the point where Rosberg was standing, it jumped the slide and hit the fallen tree trunk a terrible jolt and shoved it forward so quickly that Rosberg was caught and killed. When the men took the few steps necessary to reach his body, life was extinct.

The dead man was a native of Sweden. He has been in the employ of the managers of this company for many years and was a man of fine, sterling qualities of character. He had prospered in goods and had saved enough to buy half interest in the John A. Sheets homestead, a Mr. Gustaffason, also from Sweden, buying the other interest. Rosberg was getting ready to leave the woods and go and live on the farm and take up farming life. He and his partner were well fixed with stock and capital.

Carl Rosberg married a daughter of French Sutton, a prominent citizen of the Greenbank district. His wife and two small children survive him.

He had taken steps to become a citizen of this country. He was considered a valuable addition to the county and his untimely death is greatly to be deplored.

His life was a fine example of the opportunity that America offers to upright and industrious men from the old country.

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