Hip Talk

One of Joseph Merrick's many tragedies was damage to his left hip, the result of falling when he was a child.  Nobody knows exactly how it happened, but the injury was left untreated and resulted in his becoming permanently crippled. He was left with a painful limp that kept him from moving fast or escaping taunting followers in public. The only aid he had was a walking stick. Frederick Treves must have felt helpless seeing Joseph struggle to get around.

Unfortunately, medical science hadn't yet developed total hip replacement (arthroplasty) as a remedy for hip injury and various forms of chronic arthritis. The first attempt was an operation carried out by  German doctor in 1891. Joseph died in 1890, just a few years too soon to benefit from this successful procedure that has brought relief to millions.

Having just had my left hip replaced with a high-tech titanium artificial device,  I can attest to the improvement I already feel. The surgeon cheerfully told me afterwards that he had found "bone against bone," meaning no cartilage was left. It was high time to have the procedure done, and I can look forward to an active, healthy life once again.

If only Joseph could have had a left hip replacement! He could have enjoyed less painful strolls in the hospital garden and out in his beloved countryside. There were so many " if-onlys" in his life, and that was a big one.

To learn more about the history of this fascinating and highly successful invention, visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hip_replacement

Joseph Merrick & Leila Maturin

If you were on your way down a busy street and saw the famous, almost iconic figure of the Elephant Man in his sweeping black cloak, hat and concealing mask, how would you react?
Would you:

a) cringe and look away
b) stare
c) hurry away

I think we might do all three if caught off guard. Joseph's disfigurements, due to a rare disorder called Proteus syndrome, were so severe that some women would actually faint at the sight of him (although we're talking Victorian times and corsets so tight they could hardly breathe. Fainting was fashionable.) Someone who looks as strange as the little Elephant Man did would make us all uncomfortable, perhaps even queasy.

Now imagine that a friend of yours asks you to meet his friend named Joseph, who has lived a life of loneliness, shunned by most of mankind and convinced he's a monster. Joseph is gentle, softspoken, loves to read poetry, and speaks about all kinds of interesting things. All you would have to do is shake his hand, smile, and say hello. Your friend says this will make an enormous difference in the young man's perception of himself.

So you muster your courage and go to Joseph's small basement apartment because you want to do your friend a favor. At the first sight of Joseph, you might gasp, avert your eyes or suddenly feel dizzy. He really does look awful. But then you look into his eyes and see a living, suffering human being. You realize he is terrified of what you're going to do or say.

You discover it's not as hard as you thought to take his hand and say "I'm pleased to meet you." And you mean it, because you can see the pain in his expressive brown eyes and you want to let him know you care.

That's exactly what a young woman named Leila Maturin did when Frederick Treves asked her to meet Joseph Merrick. Her warm smile and friendly greeting shocked him so much he dissolved into tears, unable to believe a woman had just touched his hand and looked into his eyes without screaming.

If we come face to face with someone whose appearance frightens us, whose disability embarrasses us, think of Leila Maturin's simple act. Her smile changed Merrick's life. After that day, he began to see himself as human, as someone who was worth knowing. At the end of his short life, he was surrounded by people who had discovered how lovable he was behind that strange mask.

If we take the time to see behind each other's masks, we might find the same.

John Thomas Merrick: The Missing Merrick Child

Last summer, while Hurricane Irene raged up the East Coast of the US, work was canceled, and I had unexpected free time.  As always, I enjoy probing every aspect of Joseph's story I can find, and by sheer luck happened upon this gem while reading a Merrick family tree.

There was a FOURTH Merrick child, never mentioned in any of Joseph's biographies before. He was born two years after Joseph, on April 21, 1864, and named John Thomas Merrick. So there was indeed a "John" Merrick (and actually, the name is quite common in the Merrick family, as is "Joseph.") Alas, this little John only survived for three months, succumbing to smallpox in July of 1864. He was buried on July 21 in Welford Road Cemetery in Leicester.

This is significant in Joseph's family history. It means that Mary Jane was pregnant with a second child at around the time Joseph began to show the first sign of his disorder, at around twenty months. A small lump appeared beneath his upper lip on the right side, and began to grow firm, eventually pushing his lip upwards and almost inside out. This change in Joseph's face is probably what caused Mary Jane to think of her frightening encounter with a circus elephant when she was six months pregnant with him. Did she worry that her new baby would suffer the same fate, even without an encounter with an elephant?

It must have been a time of great worry and apprehension, praying that the new child would be healthy. It's quite possible that John Thomas was born normal, so that his death only three months later was all the more heartbreaking.  When William Arthur was born two years later, in 1866, the story was repeated, exceptWilliam survived for five years before dying of scarlet fever. Again, the Merricks' hopes for a healthy son were dashed. I wouldn't be surprised if Rockley Merrick's poor attitude towards Joseph grew with each disappointment and loss. Theirlast child, Marion Eliza, was born with a disability, "crippled" in their terms, and survived to the age of twenty-three before succumbing to myelitis.

A shadow of tragedy hung over the family, and it greatly weakened Mary Jane's health. She died on May 19th, 1873 at only thirty-six (though it was NOT on her birthday as is often stated.)

I wonder how Joseph felt when Treves insisted on calling him 'John?" Did it reawaken memories of the lost little brother who came and went before Joseph's second birthday? He would have been too young to remember him, but no doubt he heard of him, and perhaps Mary Jane went to lay flowers at the grave when she could.
Rest in peace, little John Thomas, restored to your family's story once again.