I met with an accident March 18, 1885. I was thrown off of my feet to the forward end of a smoking-car. My spine was injured. I had on the left side of my spine a discoloration, or what they called a black and blue spot, about as large as a silver dollar. A physician, who is a good surgeon, told me I had two curvatures of the spine, and that my left side, arm, and limb were partially paralyzed. He called my injury concussion of the spine. I grew worse daily; was very feeble. I crawled about with a cane and a stool. I could not go far without sitting down. I did not go far from my home. My wife took me to the Massachusetts General Hospital by appointment with the house surgeon or doctor on June 30, 1886. The doctor told me they could do nothing for me there, as my injury was a chronic one. My wife asked the doctor if there was nothing that could be done for me. He said, "No, nothing here; he will have to go elsewhere for advice." I was brought back to my home. That day, June 30, 1886, was the last day I was able to go to Boston. I had been suffering greatly, bodily and mentally; I was in pain all the time and never knew what it was to be free from pain from March 18, 1885 to June, 1897.
July 3, 1891, was the last day I went out of my house for about six years; then I only sat on a stool in front of my house for a few minutes. I was thirty-seven years old when I was injured. I shall be fifty-one years old August 13, 1898. When I was injured my average weight was one hundred and sixty pounds, I now weigh two hundred and fifteen pounds. There was a large swelling, or bunch, on the back of my neck at base of the brain. I could not wear a collar. My left arm and limb were almost helpless. I was drawn forward, my head drawn to the left side, my mouth was out of shape. I could not sit up straight; could not sit back in a chair. I did not get a night's sleep for years. I slept on my right side about twelve years. When I retired I could not lie in my bed more than fifteen or twenty minutes; then I would get up and walk, or rather drag, myself about for a few minutes and then lie down again. I could get but little sleep day or night. I had been a commercial traveler about twenty years. My business brought me in the way of meeting physicians, druggists, and patent medicine men. I was educated to the thought that they knew their business in materia medica, surgery, and anatomy. It took me some time to believe that I could be helped with Christian Science treatment. I had been told the treatment would help a headache, but my injury was chronic, and there was no known cure for paralysis. I was also told that Christian Science was the work of the devil. The best doctors had made my case a study for years; they had experimented and tried all kinds of remedies. There were fourteen or fifteen different doctors, Allopathic, Botanic, Homœopathic, Eclectic, and Magnetic, that experimented on me. They pronounced me incurable, telling me that no human power could help me. My speech was so affected that I could not talk intelligibly. My physician told me he had done all he could for me; he used the strongest opiates to make me sleep, but they did not make me rest or sleep. One specialist in Boston said, twelve years ago, he did not think it possible for me to live two years. After I was treated about one year in Christian Science, in September, 1896, I was able to get out of my house for the first time in about six years. I took my little artist's stool and cane; did not get far from my home for some time, but as I gained in Truth I gained in strength.
November 22, 1896, my wife and daughter took me in a carriage to the Mother Church. When I sat in the pew I was unable to sit up straight, my head almost touched the back of the pew in front of me. I was very tired when I reached the church. I found rest and peace there. A soothing, quieting, and happy feeling came over me. After I had been in my seat a few minutes the church, the people, music, and the lesson, all helped me to see that God was Love, and the kind words of encouragement were very helpful to me. The second Sunday I carried my stool. It took me more than thirty minutes to get from Huntington Avenue to the church, about one block. I was bent over just like a half opened jack-knife.
