Lou’s View

By Lou Bernard

I was a Boy Scout, once. It was a long time ago, but I became an Eagle Scout in Troop 58 back home in the Lehigh Valley. I remember how important that was purported to be—We were routinely told that being a Boy Scout was preparing us for our future careers and giving us skills that could accomplish anything, up to and including saving a life.

What with all that, I really thought I’d use CPR a lot more as an adult. Though, I admit, I have gotten some use out of these skills I learned. Over the years, I’ve had the opportunity to put some of these things to use.

I don’t recall learning how to deal with hydrogen sulfide, specifically, but maybe I missed that meeting.

It was Tuesday, April 1, 1924. Daryl E. Rea of Bald Eagle Street was working at his job at American Aniline, on the south side of Lock Haven. American Aniline was a busy place, creating a variety of dyes and paints—In fact, they created dyes that were included in the smoke grenades of World War II. As you might expect, they used a lot of chemicals, and sometimes this sort of backfired on them.

The Clinton County Times, that Friday, ran the headline, ”Daryl E. Rea Overcome With Gas At Dye Plant.” Rea was a sub-foreman at the factory, and had been working in Plant Number Two when he was “overcome by the fumes of hydrogen sulphide, and lapsed into unconsciousness.” The article doesn’t specify exactly what happened to spread the fumes throughout the room, or why this was different than a normal day. The Times did take pains to clear Rea of any mishandling of the chemicals, declaring him to be competent and responsible. But at any rate, Rea collapsed.

Edward Myers, who had also been working that day, attempted to assist him. Myers gets credit for that, but he was also hit with the fumes, falling over and unable to move Rea out of the way. Myers managed to crawl on his hands and knees to the nearby laboratory, where he asked Andrew Elliott for help.

Elliott was about twenty-one at the time, and the Times made a point of mentioning that he’d been a Boy Scout. The Boy Scouts had only been founded about fourteen years before, but Elliott seems to have made the most of the experience, getting Rea to safety and starting first aid.

The article reported that Rea had begun to turn blue, which is appropriate for a dye plant. But in addition to Elliott’s first aid, a doctor was called, and Rea was beginning to show signs of life by the time he arrived.

Rea was taken to the Teah Hospital on Main Street, where he was placed under the care of Dr. Theodore Teah, a World War I vet and kindly doctor. Rea regained consciousness later that evening, waking up with no memory of the incident. He had no idea how he’d gotten acid burns on his arms and hands, and how the bruises on his face had occurred. He was said to be “rallying nicely.”

“The young man undoubtedly owes his life to the prompt action taken by his friend Elliott,” reported the Times, ”Who is to be commended on the use of his Boy Scout training.”

This was about the third time that the Clinton County Times mentioned the Boy Scouts in the article, making me wonder if they were getting sponsorship money or something. Daryl Rea continued to live until 1976, finally passing away at the age of seventy-seven. It’s safe to say that no amount of Boy Scout training can prevent old age.