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1. "The Rest Of The Story"
Posted by Kat on Jan-9th-02 at 6:06 AM

"Dr. Pemberton's Pick-Me-Up

In the first place, Dr. Pemberton wasn't even a doctor.  But who'd trust a product called 'Mr. Pemberton's Triplex Liver Pills'?
 
No one.

Therefore he called it' Dr. Pemberton's Globe of Flower Cough Syrup' and 'Dr. Pemberton's Extract of Styllinger Blood Medicine.'

But if Dr. Pemberton wasn't a doctor, he also wasn't a quack.  He merely lived in an era, right after the Civil War, when the corner druggist knew as much about medicines as the national drug manufacturers.  And that's just what John Pemberton was.  A corner druggist.

It was sometime after moving his business from Columbus to Atlanta--some while after 'Dr. Pemberton's Indian Queen Hair Dye'--that this obscure Georgia pharmacist started fiddling with a basement brew you'll want to know about.

Most patent medicines in those days contained alcohol.  None of that in John Pemberton's new concoction.  In fact, according to some, he was trying to effect a headache cure...or perhaps a hangover cure for the patent medicines.

John experimented with the extracts of fruits and nuts and leaves, but that was for the taste.  If he was going to cure a headache he'd need, perhaps, a stimulant?  Yes.  Caffeine.  And an analgesic.  Some say...cocaine.

Now it was all over but the selling.  But John, who had spent most of his time developing this new pick-me-up, would need financial help.  So, during the summer of 1886, Dr. Pemberton took a jug of the reddish-brown syrup to Jacobs Pharmacy, one of the most reputable in Atlanta.

What was in it, the manager wanted to know?

Dr. Pemberton explained that it was a secret but the manager should try some.  Just mix with water and drink.

Well, Jacobs bought Pemberton's potion...advertised it, too...but sales were slow.  Apparently Georgians were quite free of aches and pains that summer.  That's when fate stumbled in.

The story goes that a customer came into the pharmacy one morning with a hangover.  The clerk remembered Dr. Pemberton's syrup and went to mix some.  He was new on the job, not yet acquainted with the proceedure...and used carbonated water by mistake.

His mistake is still in the recipe today.  Any cocaine in the original creation has long since been eliminated, so it may or may not cure your headache.  The other ingredients remain basically the same.

Dr. Pemberton, the master of cures, could not cure himself.  His health failed soon after that discovery.  The little business he built around it could have been bought for less than two thousand dollars when he died.

So the country druggist never shared the pot of gold at the end of what is now a rainbow of lights as wide as the world--spelling out...Coca-Cola!"

-from:  Paul Harvey's The Rest Of The Story, by Paul Aurandt, (his son-"Harvey" being Paul's middle name), A Bantam Book, published by Doubleday & Co., N.Y., N.Y., 1977.
-advertised on the back cover as:  "Dr. Pemberton's Pick-Me-Up--the cocaine unknowingly consumed by your grandmother.  YOUR grandmother!"

This is not Victorian America, but Victorian England, 50 years leading up to 1933.  "The Rest of the Story."

"PEN PALS-
Philology is the study of literature literally.  It's the study of whole texts and single words and the meanings of each.

Is it any wonder that when the Macmillan Company was shopping around for someone to edit a brand-new dictionary...they chose Dr. James Murray, president of the Philological Society in England?

Dr. Murray had quite established himself in philological studies He was the best.  But the task would be an enormous one.

You already know what is now considered his crowning achievement:  the great Oxford dictionary.

Cawdrey's was the first English dictionary, in 1604, a mere few pages compared to the completed Oxford dictionary of 1933.  The latter took over half a century to be assembled...more than half a century and more than fifteen thousand pages.  It should not come as a surprise, then, that it's first and foremost editor, Dr. James Murray, needed all the help he could get.

Among those who were the greatest help was Dr. W. C. Minors.  He was Dr. Murray's pen pal, although these two learned men had never met.

It seems Dr. W. C. Minors had heard that the great Oxford dictionary was being compiled.  The thought fascinated him.

Might he be of any assistance? he wrote Dr. Murray.

At first, Dr. Murray was amused by the offer from this unknown scholar.  He knew that good lexicographers are born and not made.  It takes a particular kind of mind, and who WAS this Dr. Minors anyway?  But Dr. Murray wrote a letter of thanks to Dr. Minors saying, yes, he'd be interested in any suggestions.  He wasn't really.

The next letter from Dr. Minors was a shocker...dozens of items, definitions, references...each expertly arranged and constructed in every detail...and more than that.  Immediately, Dr. Murray was convinced that he was corresponding with a genius.

Quickly Dr. Murray dashed off a letter expressing his extreme gratitude.  He'd had no idea how unusually qualified Dr. Minors was...and he'd be honored to accept any further guidance or criticism, or aid whatsoever from this great mind.

Dr. Minors complied.

Before long the letters Dr. Murray received from Dr. Minors numbered in the thousands!  Thousands of letters containing thousands of valuable items that eventually found their way into the great Oxford dictionary.

Finally Dr. Murray could bear it no longer.  He'd been respectful of Dr. Minors privacy, all the while knowing no more about this mystery scholar than his address:  Dr. W. C. Minors, Crowthorne, England.

But now it was time they should meet.  So Dr. Murray wrote Dr. Minors, inviting him to be the guest of Oxford University for a week.

The letter Dr. Murray received in answer was a curious one.  In it Dr. Minors said that he was, for physical reasons, forced to decline the invitation.  He would, however, be delighted to have Dr. Murray visit him at Crowthorne.

Dr. Murray accepted.

In a few days he traveled to Wellington College Station, where he was met by a liveried coachman.

'Dr. Murray?'  the coachman asked, 'I've been instructed to take you to Dr. Minors.'

Without another word they were on their way to Dr. Minors residence and to the most remarkable revelation of Dr. Murray's life.

For the great mind of Dr. Minors...the brilliant brain behind a major contribution to the great Oxford dictionary...was only partly there.

After that one unforgettable meeting between the two scholars, they never met again.

For you see, though this extraordinary man's love of learning could not be constrained, he had to be.  Dr. Minors was a convicted mad-dog murderer.

Dr. Murray's pen pal...was in the pen...an inmate at the Broadmoore Asylum for the Criminally Insane!"

--by Paul Aurandt / & Paul Harvey--The Rest of the Story--1977. pg.31-33.