Story told by Greg Schurer about his experience with polio
It may have started for me at Canary Island, a place that was probably not known about by most residents of Manning, Iowa, in the early 1950s, but at that time it was one of the only places for many of us boys to skinny dip. Where it got the name 'Canary Island' I'll never know as I don't ever remember seeing any canaries there - all I can recollect are some willow trees at Canary Island #1. It was just a bend in the muddy Nishnabotna River about 1/4 mile north of the Milwaukee Railroad trestle on the north edge of Manning. One year the spring floods washed the swimming hole in so we had to relocate to another bend in the river a couple hundred yards upstream where the rushing water from spring flooding had scoured out another hole. This was Canary Island #2.

Some of us boys (we couldn't talk any girls into joining us) spent quite a few hot summer afternoons in these mudholes where the water was about the consistency of chocolate pudding with an occasional cowpie floating by and hitting us in the face. Before putting our clothes back on to return to town, we would inspect each others bodies where we couldn't see for ourselves for leaches (we called them bloodsuckers) and we would remove all of them if they had not burrowed in too deep.

One hot summer day in late July or early August of 1951, Phillip Zerwas and I along with 2 or 3 other guys were swimming there (You probably wonder how we could swim in the Nishnabotna in this area as most of it was only a couple of feet deep but this hole was 3 to 4 feet deep in an area about 30 to 40 feet across) and decided to see how many consecutive laps back and forth across the puddle we could make. Phil finished first with 30 laps and I saw him crawl exhausted on to the river bank. I soon completed my laps and also laid down completely worn out.

A few days after this "swimming marathon", I took very sick and was home in bed with a high fever, an excruciating headache and feeling very weak and aching all over. My mother called Dr. John Hornberger and he came to see me (this was the good old days when doctors made house calls) then left and returned later to do a spinal tap on me. Doc showed me the needle that he poked in me and I remember that it was very long. When he left to get it tested, he informed me that he was going to Phil's house to do the same thing. The diagnosis was polio for both of us. Later that evening (as I recall, it was a Saturday), Doc gathered up Phil's Dad, my Dad and us two boys and said we were heading for Mercy Hospital in Council Bluffs. If my memory serves me correctly, Doc had either a Mercury or a Buick but whatever it was, it was fast and that was sure a quick trip with Doc driving. Neither Phil nor I were feeling very well when they rushed us into the hospital. The worst thing that I can remember is the terrible headache and being so stiff but they took care of us and with physical therapy got us limbered up so that five days later we could go back home. We were well enough that we were starting to notice the young nurses that were in training but most of the nurses were Catholic Nuns. It still took some time for us to be 100% again, but we were very fortunate to recuperate as fast as we did. Many others that had polio didn't fare as well.

I truly believe that swimming in the dirty Nishnabotna had a lot to do with what got us sick and we never swam there again. As far as I know, no one else did either. It's also my opinion that Dr. Hornberger was responsible for our quick recovery by testing us right away and getting us to the hospital quickly. He was a wonderful physician.

Phil and I went back to school and started the 9th grade that fall and from then on we had a good life.

After leaving high school, I worked in Chicago, Illinois, for almost a year before enlisting in the U.S. Navy where I served for just short of 4 years. Then it was back to Manning in late 1959 where I worked at various jobs until the spring of 1961. I then went to work for a construction company from Grand Island, Nebraska, and stayed with them for almost 42 years retiring at the end of 2002. My wife (Shirley Jo) and I bought a home in far western Nebraska where we settled down to the good life. I still have a couple of part time jobs and do some volunteer work but life had been good overall and I thank the good Lord for getting Phil and I through that time.

Note: Canary Island got the bird name because of the native Gold Finches of our area that are yellowish in color and look like a canary.
Dave Kusel

Canary Island was formed when the Great Western tracks were constructed through Manning in 1903. In order to avoid building 2 bridges to cross the Nishnabotna creek, it was straightened leaving the oxbow to the west which formed an island of sorts. You can see the abandoned creek bed was not filled in, so water stood in it most of the time - like a pond.

Part of Canary Island can be seen to the left (west) of the Great Western Train.

After nearly a year of working in Chicago at the age of 17, he returned to Manning and enlisted in the U.S. Navy November 15, 1955, attending boot camp at Great Lakes, Illinois. He was then assigned duty aboard the USS Spangler (DE696) home ported in San Diego, California. While serving aboard the ship he temporarily attended Disbursing School at the Naval Training Center in San Diego and got to visit many ports in the Western Pacific and Far East including Hawaii, New Zealand, Japan, Korea, Philippine Islands, Hong Kong, Singapore, and dozens of South Pacific Islands.

In July of 1958 Greg was transferred to Barber's Point Naval Air Station on the island of Oahu, Hawaii, where he spent the last fourteen months of his active duty attached to Airborne Barrier Service Squadron II. He was released from active duty status on October 6, 1959, at Treasure Island, California, as a Disbursing Clerk 2nd Class (E-5).

Returning to Manning, he worked several jobs in that area before being employed by a construction company headquartered in Grand Island, Nebraska. He was united in marriage to Boneta Thomas on August 17, 1962, and they and their three children (Randy, Sandy, and Greg A.) resided in Wood River, Nebraska, for many years. They also have seven grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

At the end of 2002, after almost 42 years working for The Diamond Engineering Company, Greg retired as a vice-president of that company and started to do only part time work. He then married Shirley Jo Mitchell of Alliance, Nebraska, and this added two sons and five grandchildren to the family.

Greg is a member of Wood River Post 314 of the American Legion. He and Shirley are now in partial retirement in the beautiful Wildcat Hills of Western Nebraska.