The Man Who Beat Death with 'New Science' in Seattle
A local resident details his miraculous recovery from rheumatism and kidney failure after conventional doctors gave up on him.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
Five years ago I took down with rheumatism, gravel and inflammation of my stomach. I was two years on my back and could not turn over. I had the best medical aid of Seattle that money could procure. But I received no benefit. I was shipped to San Francisco, stayed there 5 months under expert medical care and I received some slight benefit there. All that time I suffered excruciatingly in my stomach and kidneys and my left leg was almost the size of two legs and as hard as a rock its whole length. I could hardly eat anything and was falling fast. I gave myself up to die. In fact, I thought it was only a matter of days.
About that time all the country round me rang with the praise of Dr. J. Eugene Jordan, and his new Histogynecic system, of which he was the author. He took no cases unless they were given up as incurable by other reputable doctors. He charged nothing for services or medicine and his object seemed to be to show to the world the coming revolution of the medical science.
I had myself conveyed to him at the Brunswick Hotel, where his office is. In one day after taking his medicine the terrible pain in my stomach that stayed with me so many years and that doctors east and west, of every school and no school, could not dislodge, vanished. My bodily health came back to me. I threw away my crutches, and if it were not for the remaining stiffness of my knee I would be a young man again.
This does not begin to tell the suffering I endured, a volume could not do justice, a pen could not convey it. It was sleepless nights and days of torture, real was foreign to me. All this transformation to health has now been a year and I have no recurrence of the trouble. I am 65 years old, have lived thirty years near Seattle, and my many friends never expected to see me about again. I am still taking the medicine and have hopes to get the use of my knee back.
This testimonial highlights the era's desperation for effective medical treatments before the advent of modern antibiotics and specialized care. It also illustrates how early 20th-century Seattle was a hub for 'rest cure' tourism, where patients traveled from across the country to seek alternative therapies in sanitariums and hotels like the Brunswick.
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