(Today’s column concludes the three-part series on Tupper Lake physician, Dr. Albert Thissell.)
“Many people ask what makes Tupper Lake such a healthy place. Here is the answer.”
That statement was the title of an essay written in the 1930s by Tupper Lake physician, Dr. Thissell. The good doctor was convinced that Tupper was just about the healthiest spot on the globe. He put together a little story and had the Free Press print 500 copies so he could spread the word. Over the years, those copies pretty much disappeared and, in fact, became rare. Some years ago, a copy that survived came across the desk of this paper’s editor, who noted, “Probably no Chamber of Commerce publication every commanded more reader interest than this little leaflet.” That copy came from Marge LaRouque of Long Lake and was passed along by Roland Richer. It is offered in today’s column for reader interest:
Years and years ago – not too many – there lived at Tupper Lake an old-fashioned family consisting of father, mother, five sons and five daughters. Besides, there was a grandfather, making a baker’s dozen in all. Grandpa was of the “Old School” – fine in every way. They lived happily together in those days. As time went on, the boys and girls grew up and were married. All continued to live here except on son, who bought a dairy farm not far from Utica, NY.
Grandpa, always an early riser, took turns living with the married grandchildren. As sometimes happens, the in-laws , both men and women, did not get along at all with the old gentleman. Gradually that got on his nerves, so to speak, and as we are all what our nerves make us, this whole family was in deep trouble. Grandpa was getting older and older – going on a hundred at this period and decidedly set in his ways, making it still harder to get along with him. Among other things, he was extremely garrulous, although his brains were tracking well, both sides. (To understand this otherwise queer expression we must add grandpa was born left-handed and being a worker from childhood, he soon became ambidextrous. Our brains, having two sides, are developed more thoroughly when we use one hand as well and cleverly as the other.)
A family council was held, and in desperation it was finally concluded to pack grandpa off to the farm where he had never been. So he was put on the train, and the other son agreed to meet him at the station near Utica.
Several weeks passed, and news came back that grandpa was growing feeble. The home folks were surprised at this because he had always been so spry and husky here. A few weeks more and a telegram came saying the poor old gentleman had died in his sleep.
One of the grandsons, who had a softer spot in his heart than the others, was detailed to go down and bring the body home. They left on the night train that arrives at Tupper Lake at 5:25 next morning. The casket was put in the baggage car, and the grandson, feeling sorry, decided to sit up with grandpa. A few miles north of Big Moose, the highest point on the N.Y.C.R.R. (2034 feet above sea level), he heard a little noise in the opposite corner. He had been dozing off and on and did not pay much attention to it at first. Finally, wide awake, he went over to look. There was grandpa getting up in is coffin, crying gently and talking to himself – a habit he had acquired during the past twenty or thirty years. Bending over him he heard him say between sobs, “Too bad, I am sorry; pity me. I died down there on the farm. Now they are bringing me back up in the mountains and the air has brought me to, and I have got to go all through it again.”
Naturally this broke the grandson all up. By the time he had quieted grandpa by telling him he should live with him and not others, the train pulled in at Tupper Lake, and they both rode home in Dan Hayes’ bus. This favorite grandson took good care of him, and the whole occurrence was so unusual that grandpa had “everything going,” especially his buttermilk, without ever having heard that was the very thing that kept the Bulgarians alive longer than any other people in all Europe – 105 to 125 years old – the lactic acid in it destroying the unfriendly germs and allowing the friendly ones to grow and propagate. Also being fond of blueberries and having nothing else to do, he picked and ate them every day during season, and his granddaughter put up so many that the whole family flourished on them summer and winter. They never knew that the peculiar acid blueberries contained worked on the liver and that the pulp skin and seeds acting as roughage, altogether formed the most scientific laxative known up to date. (Use at least 1 quart a day – more would be better – without sugar or cream.) But they did know enough to stick to their blueberries and so kept right on living, including grandpa.
The amount of water around Tupper Lake contributes a large share towards its healthfulness. One can step into a motor boat at Owens Wharf and travel over 150 miles by following the shorelines of Raquette Pond, Big Tupper Lake, Big Simonds Pond and up the river to Raquette Falls, and down as far as our new dam without getting out. This is one of the very few mountain towns known where such a thing can be accomplished, and yet the drainage is so perfect, and the air containing an excessive amount of oxygen and ozone is so drying that a short time after a shower the surface of the ground is dry as a chip.
It is easy to for us to understand why, with all the above in his favor and contributing to a long and healthy life, grandpa continued to live. (Having practiced medicine here for over 48 years, the writer is an undisputed authority.)
However, true the above is, the writer wishes to be conscientious and will not vouch for the ending of this remarkable story of the life-giving properties of the air of Tupper Lake. Tradition and legend, however, back each other up in this case, and they both say that when near a hundred and twenty – the age of Moses, who led the Children of Israel out of bondage in Egypt over 3,500 years ago – he was taken out and shot on the far side of Mt. Morris.
- Dr. Thissell