The Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. To the millions of American men and women who have labored, and today labor still with hand and mind and heart, to build and to preserve a great free nation, the Cavalcade of America proudly dedicates the unending story of a new way of life in a new world. Tonight the Cavalcade of America presents Red Death, the story of Dr. Joseph Goldberger and his fight against pellagra. Our star from the Cavalcade players is Edwin Jerome. The part of Dr. Horn is played by Ray Collins, Granny by Jeanette Nolan, Mary Goldberger by Agnes Moorhead, Elmer by Elliot Reed, and the Governor by John McIntyre. Our orchestra and original musical score are under the direction of Don Voorhees. DuPont, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, present Red Death on the Cavalcade of America. The year 1915. The hills and fields of America's Southland are lush and green. The land is peaceful and good. The Gulf Coast is a blue curve against the high surf. And the rich sun slants through the cane breaks of the Valley of the Mississippi. But stalking the Carolina Hills, striding sure footed across the copper earth of Georgia, through the black belt and beyond, is death. No man sees him. No man knows the time of his coming. For the cropper's hoe will fall to the earth. And the man bend double with the agony inside him. And all men know it. And the sure death it brings. And the brand of doom it leaves on the faces of its victims. The mark of the Red Death. Well, Granny, I guess there's nothing more I can do here now. Dead. Sam's dead. They're all gone now. All my boys. It's hard, I know. It's hard for all of us, Granny. Cotton's gonna rot here this year. Same as down to the Bennets last year when the misery took the old man away. Ain't this never gonna let up, Doctor? All we can do is hope and pray, Granny. Hope and pray. What else I've been doing, Doctor? I know, Granny, but maybe something will come of it. They say a big scientist is coming down here to find what this sickness is. I know what it is. It's the curse of the devil on poor folks. Granny, sometimes it seems like that's just what it is. But there must be a reason why, and maybe this man can help us. You see, he'll have laboratories and ways of finding things out. Maybe so. But that won't bring my boys back. Nothing will bring them back to me. I heard you were coming, Dr. Goldberger, and I wanted to be the first to meet you and the missus. Well, that's very kind of you, Dr. Hall. Now, if there's anything I can do, you just have to ask me. Well, we really ought to find a good boarding house somewhere. Oh, no, no. You'll do no such thing, ma'am. I want you to put up at my house till you settle. Oh, Dr. Horn, we wouldn't think of putting you to that trouble. Why, it'd be no trouble at all, ma'am. Besides, it'll give us a chance to get acquainted before we get the doctor in office for his laboratory. I have no laboratory, Dr. Horn. You mean he didn't bring any equipment with you on the train? No. I mean I'm not going to have a laboratory. That is what you think of as one. Oh. Well, we've all done just about everything we can think of, but it's no use. I'm afraid you're going to find out it's like trying to trap a ghost. I'll tell you, Dr. Horn, you ask me about a laboratory. These hills are my laboratory. I believe we'll never know anything about Pelagra until we know these people, their habits, the way they live. I want to do that first. Well, seems to me that's putting the cart before the horse. Not a thing about them, I couldn't tell you right off. Why, if you'd just go over my case history... No. Thank you, Dr. Horn, but I don't think case histories will help. I believe the answer to this is the living. It's the lives these people live that must be studied, not the deaths they die. Music Whoa there, whoa, whoa, whoa. Howdy, mister. How do you do? You, uh, you looking for someone hereabouts? No, no, I'm a stranger here, thought I'd have a look around. Well, don't you go near that cabin over there. They got the misery there. Oh. Bad. They're friends of yours? Yeah, they was. I don't go there no more. They're bad luck those folks. They don't have nothing but bad luck. And it seems like the poorer they get, the sicker they get. Oh. Uh, isn't anyone looking after them? Yeah, they can't afford no doctor. We can send over what we can to eat, but we ain't got much ourselves. Maybe I could help them. I'm a doctor. You? You don't look like no doctor. Well, I'm a special kind. Yeah, sure hope you can fix up them folks over there. I'll do what I can. Yeah. Say, Doc. Yes? Now, look, I don't want you to get the idea I got the misery. Because I ain't sick, mind you. It's just, well, I ain't feeling so good. Let me look at the side of your face there. Seems to have a mark. Oh, there. Oh, that sunburn. I get that every year come spring. You get it in the spring? Sure. Skin gets dry like from the sun. Like these here cracks between the knuckles. Don't hurt none. Let me see your hands. I see. They don't hurt none, Doc. It's like I'm so tired all the time. And there's a kind of a raw feeling in my stomach sometimes. So I can't hardly eat. You sleep well? Tolerable. I don't hanker for too much sleep. I get bad dreams. I see. The doctor used to give a tonic like to the granny woman. Fixed her right up. Put her to sleep, you mean? Yeah. Hey, Doc, you don't think I've got it? We don't know much about this sickness, lad. It may take us quite a while to find out what's causing it. Doc, you don't think I'm getting it, do you? Do you? Yes, son, I do. I'm afraid you've got it. A mild-mannered, quiet-spoken doctor following on the heels of the phantom Red Death, doing what he can along the way to help and comfort its victims. The phantom itself is always just ahead of him, invincible and deadly. He quarantines houses, the Red Death walks silently in past the guards. He isolates whole communities. The Red Death strikes as before. Once, he thinks he's trapped it, yet he's only touched its shadow, but on the plots, in the footsteps of the Red Death. The Red Death strikes as before. There, it's finished. Thank you, dear. It looks very neat and impressive, doesn't it? The Etiology of Palagra by Joseph Goldberger. It sounds so scientific some way or other. Not like tramping along country roads and talking to all those people. Not like you, Joseph. It has to be complicated, or our friends on the commission wouldn't be able to understand it. Joseph, it's amazing when you think men have worked on this problem for so long, and the answer was as simple as this. You're right, Mary. It is simple, just a matter of balanced diet, of educating people against the restricted one of cornmeal, molasses, and side pork all the time. Do that and you'll end Palagra. I wish I could be at the meeting to hear you. I wish you could too, Mary. Ah? I think we've proved our case. The Etiology of Palagra by Joseph Goldberger Is that you, Joseph? Yes, Mary. You've been gone so long. I had an errand at the hospital. Joseph, what about the meeting, your report? They laughed at me. Oh, no, they couldn't. They insisted in spite of all our evidence to the contrary, that a germ is causing Palagra. Why, one jackass there. Joseph! Well, he was a jackass and I told him so to his face. I've never seen you angry like this before. Well, I am angry. An epidemic like typhoid, he said, and they all nodded their heads, yes. A germ causes Palagra. Well, if it's laboratory work they want, they'll get it. I went down to the hospital this evening and got enough blood serum from Palagra victims to wipe out an army if Palagra were contagious. What are you going to do? I'm going to inject it into my own veins, my muscles, my spine. I'm going to drink it. I'm going to smear it on my skin. I know how you feel, dear. Joseph. Yes, yes. I'm going to take the injections with you. Mary. Two subjects who experiment would carry more weight than one. That has nothing to do with it. Joseph, you and I have always been together. We've, we've believed together. Shouldn't it be that way now? Mary, please, I... There's some hypodermics here. Here's the alcohol and cotton. All right, I'm waiting. Please, Joseph. Very well, Mary. There. Now it's you. Roll up your sleeve, dear. Yes. There. All right. If they want this kind of proof, we'll give it to them. Governor Brewer, I appreciate this opportunity to talk to you. It's all right, Dr. Goldberger. Heard a lot about you. Did some work with Walter Reed in Yellow Fever, didn't he? Yes, sir, yes, sir. That was a great experience. Governor, I am here to ask you a favor. Sure, man, go ahead. What is it? I'd like to go into the State Penitentiary. Well, there are a lot of laws you could break and get into prison, Dr. Goldberger. No, I, I want to conduct an experiment. What kind of an experiment? Governor, I want to experiment with a group of convicts and induce pellagra. What? Let me explain. Governor, I am convinced pellagra is caused by the wrong kind of food. Not enough variety. Balance the diet and you will prevent pellagra. I always heard it was caused by a germ. I know better. My wife and I injected ourselves with blood serum taken from dying pellagra victims. We did not contract it. I think that disposes of the germ theory. Well, it doesn't prove a balanced diet will stop it. Right here in Jackson, Governor Brewer, I investigated pellagra cases in an orphanage. I found out that children between six and twelve were fed on the typical poor families' rations of cornmeal and molasses. And most of them had pellagra. Yes, I know about that. Then you ought to know about this, sir. Those that didn't have pellagra told me they were stealing milk and meat and vegetables on the sly. They meant they were getting a balanced diet. They warded off the disease that way. Understand me, Dr. Goldberger. If I can help you get rid of this infernal disease, I'll do it. Now, if I let you go over to the prison, what would be your procedure? I will feed those convicts the average poor family's diet and they will develop pellagra. But what if one of them dies? They'd call it cold-blooded murder. Those men won't die. I'll put them back on a balanced diet and that will cure them. You're sure you can? Yes, Governor, I am. Then go ahead. I'll phone the warden to pick out twelve men for you and you can give them your proposition. Thank you, Governor. And Goldberger, tell them this. If they're willing to take the risk, after it's over, I'll pardon each one. Governor Brewer, for this you will have the gratitude of science and all humanity. All right, boys, line up. Men, this is Dr. Goldberger. He's gotten some salio. Thank you, warden. Men, I'll give you the good news first. If you will do what is asked, the Governor will give each of you a pardon. Pardon? Well, Doctor, Doctor, sir, is you sure there ain't a catch in this somewhere? Yes, there is a catch in it. You will have to do just as I tell you. You will live in the new bunkhouse away from all the other prisoners. You will get plenty to eat. You can stuff yourselves. I want you to. But all you will get will be cornbread, molasses, grits, side pork, and a few other things. Well, what are we waiting for? Not so fast. I still haven't come to the catch. And here it is. It is very possible that you will all contract a disease. Pelagra. Pelagra? Excuse me, Doctor, sir, but I know what that misery is. I see my little sister die of it. Why, you want to give anybody that kind of misery? Because if you men do contract Pelagra, the world will know how to cure others who have it. We can drive it off the face of the earth. I ain't going to get that misery for nobody. No, no, no. Oh, shut up. You all want to get out of here, don't you? Maybe we won't catch it no how. Yeah, it's worth a chance. Sure it is. I'll go, Doctor. Me too. Yeah. Doctor, is your show you can cure us up again if we catch it? I am sure. And then we really get all the side poke and cornbread that we can eat? That's right. Then I's with you too, Doctor. Okay, and you can tell the Governor he can start getting ready with them ponds. All right, you may go now. I'm on my way, Doc. Bring in 3216, Doctor. 3216, come on in. The doctor's ready for you. Well, how are you feeling today? Never felt better. You sleep all right? Yeah, like a top. No pain anywhere? Nope. No marks on him anywhere, Dr. Goldberger? All right, you may go. Thanks. I don't understand it. All this time and still not one case has developed. I've observed thousands of cases developing and primary symptoms should have appeared by now. There's still a man waiting outside. You want to examine him? Yes, yes, we must complete the record. I'll call him in. 1430. Yes, sir. You're next. Yes, sir. I'm sure as glad you all decided to see me. It's near time for mess over to the bunkhouse and I's hungry. I see. Your appetite is all right, I take it. Oh, yes, boy, does I feel good. Any sign, Doctor? Not a single mark. Well, that settles it. I must be wrong. I don't see how I can be. This finishes me. Oh, yes, Warden? You finished with this man? Yes, yes. We're finished with all of them. The experiment has failed. Dr. Goldberger, sir? Yes. If you all is leaving, I just want to thank you before you go. The pardon and all that fine food. I appreciate it, sir. Oh, yes, that's all right. And most especially that fine steak dinner. Steak dinner? Warden, what's this about a steak dinner? Well, sir, they was complaining like about the same grub, Doctor. And being a holiday, I figured it wouldn't do them no harm. No harm? No wonder the experiment hasn't proved my point by now. Oh, I didn't aim to interfere with your experiment. Can't you understand what you've done? You've very nearly destroyed the one chance of finding the cause, the pellagra. From now on, Warden, these men stick to the meals I prescribe. Is that clear? Yes, sir. Yes, I won't have to again, sir. I tell you, Doc, I'm getting so I can't even stand the smell of cornbread no more. Let's call it off and skip your supper tonight. Well, we'd better look you all over again. Number 3216. I'm feeling okay, Doc. You're sure? Yeah, yeah, I'm sure. Well, maybe I ate too much. No signs, Dr. Gohberger. Next, 1430. I can't stand it no more. Doc, Doc, I sure got the misery. Quick, examine this man, Doc. My insides, Doc, my insides. You gotta tell me, is I got that misery? Dr. Gohberger, look, look here, behind his ear. That's it, pellagra. At last we proved it. Well, they can't laugh this time, Doctor. This means the end of pellagra. No, this is only the beginning of the end. We've trapped our enemy, but we must defeat his allies. Poverty and ignorance. And when we vanquish them, we will have finally vanquished pellagra. The red mark. For years its brand meant death. But to a quiet, bespectacled doctor standing in a bunkhouse of a Mississippi state prison, it meant the climax of a long struggle. A struggle he has handed on to valiant men and women who today carry out his ideas, thus giving new hope to humanity. Through education, pellagra may well be vanquished in our lifetime. And for its ceaseless labor for the betterment of the human race, Dr. Joseph Goldberger joins the immortals in the Cavalcade of America. The Cavalcade of America thanks Edwin Jerome and the Cavalcade players for their performance of Red Death. And now the DuPont Company brings you its story from the wonder world of chemistry. In the valley of the Kanawha in West Virginia is a DuPont plant that extends for the better part of a mile along a river. One of the things it makes is common, ordinary chemical fertilizer for our farms. Common? Ordinary? Let's see. The plows of the pioneers were iron, pointed, sharp, and they gouged the land. West the plow furrows ran toward the setting sun. Behind lay the land, scarred, exhausted. The land lay starving because men forgot their children would live after them. We have learned at last to feed the fields that feed us. We have learned that the land rewards us if we replenish the elements we take away from it. That even poor land becomes fertile if we give it food. It took a while to learn the lesson and we paid in the learning. But we know it by heart now. Forget not the land or the land will forget. That it may feed us, the land must be fed. Fed how? Fed with what? In West Virginia there is a valley. Necklaces of coal lie high in the hills there so that men must mine up to it, not down. Airplanes passing over look down on still another necklace, a circlet of silvery pipe. Through the pipes now gas flows silently. Gas from coal, gas from water, gas from air. Born in flaming steam, gas from black diamonds under the land. Gas from water that rolls over the land. Gas from the high clear air. The gases meet in the dark cauldron of an autoclave. No man could live there. The pressure is six tons to every inch, enough to smash a diamond to dull dust. And heat, heat so great that a penny tossed into it becomes a drop of molten copper. 2400 degrees, raging, thundering, driven by pressure and heat to lock arms in new substances, the gases race. And down from reaction chambers lined with glistening silver, down from whirling centrifuges, thumbles a soft, incredible snowfall of white crystals like stars. Flakes made not by snow clouds, but by man sifting down and down. Stranger than snow crystals, but within their delicate filigree is a precious food that must go to the land if the land is to live. This is the essence of Uraman. Uraman with its precious nitrogen for America's fields. For the hungry section, the quarter sections, the forties, the twelves. Out it goes to all the counties with names from all the languages. Bustock and Kent and San Jacinto. Fernando and Saline and Cuse and Rio Arriba. Elk, Galia, Wyandotte and Hickory. The counties of the land we cherish. In Uraman are the potatoes a little boy will eat for supper this winter. The orange juice a little girl will drink for breakfast next spring. These are the crystals of life itself. Body and bone and brain of America's tomorrow. Bestowed upon fields with their blessing by chemists faithful to the DuPont pledge. Better things for better living through chemistry. Music The DuPont Company in response to many requests has prepared an illustrated 32 page booklet which tells about many of the modern Cinderella materials made through chemistry. It is titled Blazing the Trail and a copy may be had by addressing DuPont, Wilmington, Delaware. And should you like to add your comments and suggestions on this current series of Cavalcade broadcasts, we shall welcome them. I repeat, if you would like a copy of this new booklet, Blazing the Trail, simply address DuPont, Wilmington, Delaware. Music And now the star of next week's program, Kenneth Delmar. Next week the Cavalcade of America presents a new radio play, Wild Bill Hickok, The Last of Two Gun Justice. Bringing you the story of one of the most fabulous characters of the legendary days of the Old West. As a special feature of this program, we will present an original ballad, especially written for Cavalcade, by Woody Guthrie, whose dust ball ballads are familiar to many of you and who will appear on the program. Cavalcade is proud to pay this tribute to the life and times of that colorful American frontiersman, Wild Bill Hickok. Thank you. Music On the Cavalcade of America, the orchestra and original musical scores are under the direction of Don Voorhees. Your narrator, George Koloris. This is Clayton Collier sending best wishes from DuPont. Music This is the National Broadcasting Company. Music
