Lenox Time Table from Lenox, Iowa on September 12, 1935 · Page 8
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Lenox Time Table from Lenox, Iowa · Page 8

Lenox, Iowa
Issue Date:
Thursday, September 12, 1935
Page 8
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Death Rides the Highways THE LENOX TIME TABLE, LENOX. IOWA The driver is death's favorite target. If the steering wheel holds together it ruptures his liver or spleen so he bleeds to deatl nally Or, if the The following article appeared : ing horribly still on the bloodv death internall -V.. Or, if the in the Auyr.st issue of the-Read- grass. steering wheel breaks off, the ers Digest and since its publication ft has been one of the most widely read and quoted articles to appear in recent years. In In many states it has been printed in pamphlet form and.traffic violators are forced to read it. It is a horrible, gruesome article. T oof «. ,. . . m atter is settled ' instantly by Last year a state trooper of the steerl olumo , s m> acquaintance stopped a big thr h his abdomen red Hispano for speeding. Papa „ was obviously a responsible per- ' By no means do a11 head-on whether it was a broken neck or ruptured heart that caused death. Overturning cars specialize in certain injuries. Cracked pelvis for instance, guaranteeing agonizing months in bed, motionless, perhaps crippled for life—broken spine resulting from sheer sidewise twist—the minor details of ear to ear. Or park on the pavement too near a curve at night and stand in front of the tai light as you take off the spare tire—which will immortalize you in somebody's memory as the fellow who was mashed three feet broad and two inches thick by the impact of a heavy duty truck against the rear of his own car. son, obviously set for a pleasant co ™ 0 ™ occur on curves. The week-end with his famil-so the mod e™ death trap 15 likely to be weeK-ena witn his family—so the ; . ~ "^ ~ ^^^ w ^ officer cut into papa's well-bred f stral f ht stretch with three It is a horrible, gruesome article, expostulations: "I'll let you off . nes traffic—IIKC the notor- It drips with blood and faint this time but if you keep on this loust Astor Flats ovl tne Alba ny hearted persons are cautioned way, you won't last long. Get Post road -where there have been that there is nothing prety about I going—but take it easier." Later f. s ™ any as twenty-seven fatali- •J 4- », — l_ *. » ,, . . ..... T,1P55 in nilP CIltYilYiav rvir»v^f 1-^ T»'Uff. it—no happy ending to take away the sick feeling the .article inspires. If you don't like blood, don't read it. The author paints vivid, gory pictures and he doesn't let up on them. ''•''• Here it is, in all its awfulmess: AND SUDDEN tf&ATH By J. C. Furnas Publicizing the total of motoring injuries—almost a million last year, with 36,000 deaths— never gets to first base in jarring the motorist into-zgaliza- tion of the appalling risks' of motoring. He does not translate dry statistics into a reality of blood and agony. Figures exclude the pain and horror of savage mutilation— which means they leave out the point. They need to be brought closer home. A passing look at a bad smash or the news that a fellow you had lunch with last •week is in a hospital''with • a broken back will make any driver but a born fool slow down' at least temporarily. But what is needed is a vivid and SUSTAINED realization that every time you step on the throtJtie ; death swing —•uuu to,j\.c ii> cttoici . JUal/ci. . . . a passing motorist hailed the tie !, m one summer month. This trooper and asked if the red His- 3Ud "? c " vision of broad ' straight pano had got a ticket. "No," said r °ad tempts many an ordinarily the trooper, "I hated to spoil their sensible driver into passing the party." "Too bad you didn't," , m ? n ahead ' Simultaneously a said the motorist.. "I saw you dnver commg the other wav stop them-and then I passed f^'s out at high speed. At the that car again fifty miles up the las t; m °nent each tries to get inline. It still m to Ime agam ' bufc the at my stomach. That car was all , sea ' As the cars m line are folded up like a accordion—the forced mto the ditch to capsize color was about all there was , °y crash fences, the passers meet left. They were all dead but one I almo f. t head on ' in a swirling, of the kids— and he wasn't going ' Brmdmg smash that sends them to live to the hospital." j caroming obliquely into the to live to the hospital. Maybe it will make you sick at your stomach too. But unless you're a heavy-footed incurable a good look at the picture the artist wouldn't dare paint, a first-hand acquaintance with the results of mixing gasoline gets in beside waiting for his you, hopefully chance. That single horible accident you may have witnessed is no isolated horror. That sort of thing happens every hour of the day everywhere in the United States. If you really felt that, perhaps the stickful of type in Monday's paper recording that a total of twenty-nine local citizens were killed in week-end crashes would rate something more than a perfunctory tut-tut as you back to the sports page. An enterprising judge,.now and again sentences reckless drivers to tour the accident end of a city morgue. But even a mangled body on a slab, waxily portraying the consquences of bad motoring judgment isn't a patch on the scene of the accident itself. No artist working on a safety poster would dare depict that in full detail. That picture would have to include motion picture and sound effects too — the flopping pointless efforts of the injured to stand up; the queer, grunting noises; the steady, panting groaning of a human being with pain creeping up on him as the shock wears off. It should portray the slack expression on the face of a man, drugged with shock, staring at the.Z-twist in his broken leg, the insane crumpled effect of a child's body after its bones are crushed inward, a realistic portrait of a hysterical woman with her screaming mouth opehih'g a hole in the bloody drip that fills her eyes and runs off her.chin. Minor details would include the raw ends of bones protruding through flesh in compound fractures, and the dark red, oozing surfaces where clothes; and skin were flayed off at once. Those are all standard, everyday sequels to the modern passion for going places in a hurry and taking a chance or two by the way. If ghosts cou}d be put others. A trooper described such an accident—five cars in one mess, seven killed on the spot, two dead on the way to the hospital, two more dead in the long run. He remembered it far more vividly than he wanted to—the smashed knees and splintered Or be as original as the pair of shoulder blades caused by crash- —<^~ -••- •- • - ing into the side of the car as she goes over with the swirl of an insane roller coaster—and the lethal consequences of broken ribs, which puncture hearts and lungs with then- raw ends. The consequent internal hemorrhage is no less dangerous because it is the pleural instead of the abdominal cavity that is filling with blood. Flying gla;ls—safety glass is by no means universal yet — contributes much more than youths who were thrown out of an open roadster this spring- thrown clear—but each broke a windshield post with his head in passing and the whole top of each skull, down to the eyebrows, was missing. Or snap off a nine-inch tree and get yourself impaled by a ragged branch. None of all that is scare fiction; it is just the horrible raw material of the year's statistics as seen in the ordinary course of duty by policemen and doc- with speed and bad judgment, y , tnan he wanted to—the ought to be well worth vonr quick way the doctor turned a ~ to a useful purpose bad stretch of road in the,\v United States would greet the, ptvebming motorist with groaijf, and screams and the educational spectacle of ten or a dozen corpses, all sizes, sexes and ages, ly- You Get a Better TRACTOR FOR LESS MONEY in the LENOX MOTOR CO, ought to be well worth your while. I can't help it if the facts are revolting. If you have the nerve to drive fast and take a chance, you ought to have the nerve to take the appropriate cure. You can't ride an ambulance or watch the doctor working on the victim in the hospital, but you can read. The automobile is treacherous, just as a cat is. It is tragically difficult to realize that it can become the deadliest missile. As enthusiasts tell you, it makes 65 feel like nothing at all. But sixty -five an hour is 100 feet a second, a speed which puts a viciously unjustified responsibility on brakes and human reflexes, and can instantly turn this docile luxury into a mad bull elephant. Collision, turnover or sideswipe "turn 6acn tvpe of acc ident produces either a shattering dead stop or a crashing change of direction— and since the occupant—meaning you—continues in the old direction at the original speed, every surface and angle of the car's interior immediately becomes a battering, tearing projectile, aimed squarley at you— inescapable. There is no bracing yourself against these .imperative laws of momentum. . It's like going over Niagara falls in a steel barrel full of railroad spikes. The best thing that can happen to you-^-and one of the rarer things—is to be thrown out as the doors swing open, so you have only the ground to reckon with. True, you strike with as much force as if you had been thrown from the Twentieth Century at top speed. But at least you are spared the lethal array of gleaming metal knobs and edges inside the car. Anything can happen in that split second of crash, even those lucky escapes you hear about. People have dived through windshields and come out with only superficial scratches. They have run cars together head on reducing both to twisted junk, and been found unhurt and arguing bitterly two minutes afterward. But death was there just the same—ht was only exercising his privilege of being erratic. This spring a wrecking crew pried the door off a car which had been overturned down an embankment and out stepped the driver with only a scratch on his cheek. But his mother was still inside, a splinter of wood from the top driven four inches into her brain as a result of son's taking a greasy curve a little too fast. No blood—no horribly twisted bones—just a gray- haired corpse still clutching her pocketbook in her lap as she had clutched it when the felt the car leave the road. On that same curve a month later, a light touring car crashed a tree. In the middle of the front seat they found a nine-months -old baby surrounded by broken glass and yet absolutely unhurt. A fin,.:'practical joke on death— but .spiled by the baby's parents, sj|jl| sitting, on each side of him, instantly killed by shattering their skulls on the dashboard. It you customarily pass wlthr "*" &sar vision a long way up " J make sure that every ,$f'$.?'•'• party carries "'*"- "^r&rrlt's dlffi- ,. ,, .-,-„.- ioo-if ft body with its whole face bashed in or torn way from a dead man to check up on a women with a' broken back; the three bodies out of one car so soaked with oil from the crankcase that they looked like wet brown cigars and not human at all; a man, walking around and babbling to himself, oblivious of the dead and dying, even oblivious of the dagger-like sliver of steel that stuck out of his streaming wrist; a pretty girl with her forehead laid open, trying hopelessly to crawl out of a ditch in spite of her smashed hip. A first-class massacre of that sort is only a question of scale and numbers—seven corpses are no deader than one. Each shattered man, woman or child share to the spectacular side of accidents. It doesn't merely cut —the fragments are driven in as if a cannon loaded with broken bottles had been fired in your face, and a sliver in the eye, traveling with such force means certain blindness. A leg or arm struck through the windshield will cut clean to the bone through vein, artery and muscle like a piece of beef under the butcher's knife, and it takes little time to lose a fatal amount of blood under such circum- its tors, picked at random. The surprising thing is that there is so little dissimilarity in the stories they tell. It's hard to find a surviving accident victim who can bear to talk. After you come to, the gnawing, searing pain throughout your body is accounted for by learning that you have both collarbones smashed, both shoulder blades splintered, your right arm broken in three place, and three ribs cracked, witl evejry chance of bad interna: ruptures. But the pain can' _ FALL •Bulk Goods"sa - Cooler Weather Means Heartier BEANS Ch feNavy 5 pounds Ol TT. J •*" PEPPER DATES LENTELS ouabMu-tiu man, woman or child nc v,p qt „ 4 nh h .,+ ....,.„,.,. ... who went to make up the 36,000 ££* * £.. jf 2?™$S* corpses chalked up last year had to die a personal death. A car careening and rolling down a bank, battering and smashing its occupants every inch of the way can wrap itself so thoroughly around a tree that front and rear bumpers interlock requiring an acetylene torch to cut them apart. In a recent case of that sort they found the old lady, who had been sitting in back, lying across the lap of her daughter, who was in front, each soaked in her own and the other's blood indistinguishably, each so shattered and broken that there was no point whatever in an autopsy to determine stances. Even safety glass may distract you, as the shock begins not be wholly safe when the car * " ' crashes something at high speed. You hear picturesque tales of how a flying human body will make a neat hole in the stuff with its head—the shoulders stick the glass holds—and the raw, keen edge of the hole decapitates the body as neatly as a guillotine. Or to continue with the decapitation motif, going off the road into a post-and-rail fence can put you beyond worrying about other injuries immediately when a rail comes through the windshield and tears off your head with its splintery end—not efficient. Bodies are often found with their shoes off and their feet all broken out of shape. The shoes are back on the floor of the car, empty and with their laces still neatly tied. That is the kind of impact produced by modern speeds. But all that is routine in every American community. To be remembered individually by doctors and policemen, you have to do something as grotesque as the lady who burst the windshield with her head, splashing splinters all over the other oc.~ cupants of the car, and then as the car rolled over, rolled with it down the edge of the windshield frame and cut her throat from to wear off, from realizing tha you are probably on your way out. You can't forget that, not even when they shift you from the ground to the stretcher and your broken ribs bite into your lungs and the sharp ends of your collar bones slide over to stab deep into each side of your screaming throat. When you've stopped screaming, it all comes back—you're dying and you hate yourself for it. That isn't fiction either. It's what it actually feels like to be one of that 36,000. And every time you pass on a blind curve, every time you hit it up on a slippery road, every time you step on it harder than your reflexes will safely take, every time you drive with your reactions slowed down by a drink or two, every time you follow the man ahead too closely, you're gambling a few seconds against this kind of blood and agony and sudden death. Take a look at yourself as the man in the white jacket shakes his head over you, tells the boys with the stretcher not to bother and turns away to somebody else who isn't quite dead yet. And then take it easy! Charles Hamilton of West Virgina was recently sent to jail for stealing a Bible. - v ry item tion. I BROOMS Q»W ______ J! HOUSE CLEANING— ^AX-RITE, liquid wax, pint can _ BRILLO, steel wool and soap, reg. pkg • CLEANSER, Ig. pkg, Lighthouse • FLY SPRAY, kills moths, bulk, quart... • GOLD MEDAfFLOl FREE, Chromium relish dish 24 1-2 Ib bag Pancake Flour, Dad's Favorite, 3 1-2 jCorn Meal, yellow or white, 5 Ib pkg ....1 • Oat Meal, Royal Seal, large pkg ___ • Crushed Wheat, In the big cello bag, FRESH FRUITS Grapes, Tokay, 2 Ibs 19c Lettuce, large solid heads, 2 for __ 17c Cabbage, for Kraut per pound __ 1 l-4c English Walnuts per pound 25c Johnathan Apples 6 pounds 25c QUALITY MEATS] Hams, picnic, no shanks, half or whole, Ib . Ground Beef,Ib. Pure, fresh beef, is ground 3 time || day Cheese, Wise No, ll Colby, Ib J| Bologna Rring,ll*ll Cigarette Halt"—that's what men on the march call it when they stop for rest and a cigarette. Cigarette Halt. Pass around the Chesterfields. It's a corking good cigarette. They have taste, yes, plenty of it, but not strong. Chesterfields are mild, but they are not insipid or flat. Pass around the Chesterfields "*/ \ f«M TOIACCO CO. esteriield • cigartette «f sipMHfcs

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