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Living in terror of crutches and iron lungs

Polio Article

Photo © Ginger V. Ford

Ginger Visel Ford, sixty-nine, can remember being an energetic four-year-old, playing tag with her brother Charlie at her heels. Just as he tagged her, she ducked under sheets hanging on a clothesline. Winded and laughing, the children sprawled on sweet-smelling grass, listening to their mother sing “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning.”

“My internal stopwatch freezes this moment like a scene in a movie,” she says. “I was the happiest girl on the planet. If only every day could bring such simple pleasures. But life had other plans.”

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