Our parents didn’t know what to do to protect us except to isolate us from other children … One time I stuck my hand through a window and badly cut myself, and despite several stitches and wads of protective bandaging, my father still grounded me that week for fear polio germs might filter in through the sutures. Quarantine and seclusion were the most common preventative measures: Gerald Shepherd provides a glimpse of the paranoiac atmosphere of the polio scare and its effects on children in a firsthand account of his San Diego childhood in the late 1940s, at the height of the epidemic. “Its symbol was less the coffin than the wheelchair.”Ĭhildren of the era faced an unenviable lot, whether infected with polio or not. “It maimed rather than killed,” as Patrick Cockburn puts it. The evidence of infection was uniquely visible and visceral compared with that of infectious diseases of the past, too. Initially, polio was called “infantile paralysis” because it struck mostly children, seemingly at random. There was nothing a parent could do to protect the family.” Like the outbreak of AIDS in the 1980s, polio’s eruption caused fear because its vectors of transmission were poorly understood, its virulence uncertain, and its repercussions unlike those of other illnesses. Oshinsky writes.“Everyone was at risk, especially children. “There was no prevention and no cure,” the historian David M. But in the mid-century, polio was a medical bogeyman, ushering in a climate of hysteria. Vaccines appeared in the 1950s, and the disease was essentially eradicated by the end of the millennium. Treatment typically involves physical therapy to stimulate muscle development, followed by braces to ensure that the affected parts of the body retain their shape. For children, whose still-developing bodies are more vulnerable to polio infection, the muscle wastage from polio can result in disfigurement if left untreated. In the last case, a patient would require the aid of an iron lung, a massive, coffinlike enclosure that forces the afflicted body to breathe. The leg muscles are the most common sites of polio damage, along with the muscles of the head, neck, and diaphragm. This leads to muscle weakness, decay, or outright fatality in extreme cases. The virus targets the nerve cells in the spinal cord, inhibiting the body’s control over its muscles. It struck suddenly, paralyzing its victims, most of whom were children. Poliomyelitis-better known as polio-was once a feared disease.
That aspect of the game still resonates with children today. Candy Land offered the kids in Abbott’s ward a welcome distraction-but it also gave immobilized patients a liberating fantasy of movement. Patients were confined by equipment, and parents kept healthy children inside for fear they might catch the disease. The outbreak had forced children into extremely restrictive environments. Read: How a bad night’s sleep birthed the sound conditioner What makes it so appealing? The answer may have something to do with the game’s history: It was invented by Eleanor Abbott, a schoolteacher, in a polio ward during the epidemic of the 1940s and ’50s. Yet for all its simplicity and limitations, children still love Candy Land, and adults still buy it. Consequently, many parents hate Candy Land as much as their young kids enjoy it. It is a game absent strategy, requiring little thought. Nothing the participants say or do influences the outcome the winner is decided the second the deck is shuffled, and all that remains is to see it revealed, one draw at a time. The first to reach the end of the track is the winner. They move their token to the next space that matches the drawn color or teleport to the space matching the symbol. They draw from a deck of cards corresponding to the board’s colors and symbols. You know how it goes: Players race down a sinuous but linear track, its spaces tinted one of six colors or marked by a special candy symbol. The game continues to sell about 1 million copies every year.
According to the toy historian Tim Walsh, a staggering 94 percent of mothers are aware of Candy Land, and more than 60 percent of households with a 5-year-old child own a set. If you were a child at some point in the past 70 years, odds are you played the board game Candy Land.