Diamond in the Rough

I don't decide what to write about while sitting in front of my keyboard; I go look at my collection and it tells me what's next. This was especially true earlier today: it became instantly clear that only one very special bottle would work for the post of April 27th – my birthday.

The bottle is wonderful on several levels. I found it in the dirt without digging; it came out of a dirt pile in perfect, sparkling mint condition; and it's a classic 19th century patent medicine, made in a time when the courts and law enforcement had no muscle to subdue even the most outrageous claims of a medicine to cure. And Mother Nature handed me this jewel on my birthday at a private party that she held just for me.

It was easily one of the most vivid birthday moments of my life. Early in the morning of April 27th, 1986, I arrived at a large playground in Revere, Massachusetts, with my metal detector in hand, looking forward to finding some Indian Head pennies and Mercury dimes, and maybe even a few Barber dimes from the previous generation of coinage. My dear to wife had given me the gift of time on my birthday morning, letting me leave her at home alone with our four children, ages 8, 7, 6, and 3, while I went off to play in the dirt, listening for tell-tale pings in my earphones and digging for tiny treasures. Those precious few hours alone were sure to be pure bliss, but it was about to get even better.

That early morning was absolutely perfect - bright sunshine with blue skies and puffy white clouds. The air was cool and crisp in its newness, and quickly giving way to the warmth of the sun's rays that made the leaves on trees overhead glow with amber brilliance. I was anxious for my buddy to arrive with his metal detector so that we could begin together and enjoy the camaraderie and friendly competition of finding things in the ground on this glorious morning. After a short while, I felt impatient to perhaps begin even without my friend. I had promised my sweetheart that I would be home by noon for the birthday party she and the kids were planning for me (I knew she would be able to keep them away from the cake and ice cream for only so long) and I was anxious to seize the day and look for treasures in the ground.

Oddly, there were two massive mounds of dirt in the middle of the playground, obviously dumped there recently for spreading across the grounds at some later date. The piles were like two small mountains, towering even higher than the swings and slide nearby. While I waited for my friend, I walked around the dirt piles, noticing the sun shining on pieces of glass here and there. I knew from my experiences at bottle digging that where there's glass there are likely bottles. I carefully pulled and poked at larger pieces of exposed glass, hoping to find a bottle in them thar hills. Chunk after chunk proved to be evidence of old bottles, none close to complete. But then I saw something that gave me the feeling inside that this was the one; the bottle mouth and neck were poking out of the dirt, looking like a subterranean life form sticking its head out of the ground, curious about the world above. I grasped it firmly, hoped for the best, and pulled.

My hands held it up to the sunlight while my mind did a quick inventory: mouth, lip, neck, shoulders, sides, and foot; no cracks, no nicks, no chips; light green like one of the many plants emerging in this New England springtime, and an extraordinary number of stretch lines all around its long neck, like evidence of quick growth towards the sun. And it had a name embossed on its main panel with Victorian-styled letters, hinting at its vintage. It read, "Dr. MILES' / RESTORATIVE / Blood Purifier". I stood there, stunned. I was so excited - thrilled would be more accurate. I cradled it like a newborn, protecting it as I brought it to the car. I took off my sweatshirt and wrapped it inside, like the present it was, then gently put it on the floor behind the driver's seat, the safest place I could imagine for this little beauty.

I went back to the two dirt piles and did my best to plow them down with my hands, hoping to find that Dr. Miles had a large family with him, or neighbors, or complete strangers nearby. But all I found were pieces of glass bodies that had been annihilated by ruthless trucks and backhoes. Dr. Miles became even more special for surviving the widespread carnage around him.

I don't remember ever metal detecting that morning or whether my friend showed up, or even the cake and ice cream that surely came later with the four little partiers that were delighted daddy finally came home so they could eat it.

I have since learned that Dr. Miles' medicines were extremely popular and, therefore, this Blood Purifier was no Bryant's Stomach Bitters. But as you can tell, this bottle is still very special to me. I have turned 69 today, 38 years after I found Dr. Miles, more than half my life ago. It has been my fountain of youth this morning, taking me back and letting me relive a few moments of time when I was young and life was far more about possibilities than obstacles.

Flintstones Vitamins in the apothecary-style bottle. Photo courtesy of www.woodchoptreasures.com

Dr. Miles went into the medicine-making business in 1884 and became even more famous for his Nervine than his Blood Purifier and several other medicines he made. The Nervine promised to treat nervous conditions, including exhaustion, sleeplessness, epilepsy, neuralgia, hysteria, headaches, and more. Bromide was the ingredient it contained with sedative and anti-spasmodic properties. Advertisements were directed mainly towards women, suggesting that it could help them through the harrowing challenges of pregnancy, unruly children, hard-to-please husbands, and everything else that conspired against "the weaker sex." The Blood Purifier was the perfect complement to the calming Nervine, strengthening the blood and constitution, helping to rebuild the worn-out woman, like spinach did for Popeye.

The Dr. Miles' Medicine Company managed to shuck and jive its way past government regulation with its Nervine and blood medicine, and long after the death of its founder in 1929, it continued to produce new products that we know well today. Under the new name of Dr. Miles' Laboratories, it came out with Alka-Seltzer (1931), and then as simply Miles Laboratories, it introduced One-A-Day Vitamins (1940), Bactine, (1950), and Flintstones Vitamins (1968). An interesting sidenote about the two fabulously successful vitamin products is that they were both originally packaged in glass, apothecary-styled jars. I distinctly remember those old One-A-Day medicine bottles in our house when I was a kid as well as my mom spraying my owies with Bactine.

Miles Laboratories was purchased by Bayer Pharmaceuticals (the manufacturer of Bayer Aspirin) in 1979; then in 1995, Bayer retired the Miles brand name. Little did I know when I held up the bottle of Dr. Miles Restorative Blood Purifier to the sky on my birthday in 1986 that I was looking at the patriarch of what continued to be a long line of extremely popular products, some of which my own family had used, trusting, just like those who used the Nervine and Blood Purifier, that they would work.

Remember that today and tomorrow are always rooted in yesterday. My 31st and 69th birthday have been linked together by a patent medicine maker from long ago. A 19th century blood purifier and Flintstones Vitamins ... who would have ever dreamed...?