The BDA Museum has several sets of 'Waterloo' teeth in its collection - some of these are teeth taken from dead soldiers after the Battle of Waterloo, which were made into dentures.” British Dental Museum.
Dear Sara, my sweet dead Sister,
Now that I have your attention, Dear Sis, allow me to share the situation of my teeth that is still in my head and now on my mind. My hygienist, the trustworthy Anna, set me up with a periodontist consult on Monday morning.
I liked Dr. Navid Sharif and was not surprised when he told me I had periodontal disease. The gums holding teeth numbers 12, 13, 14, and 15 have deep pockets, so he will cut the gums and move them aside to do a deep cleaning to stop the infection, even adding any bone I may have lost, then sew the gums back up. “It will take only 20 minutes,” he said.
Dr. Sharif pointed to a poster-style visual aid on the wall that showed the progression of the disease in a row of thumbnail pictures; he was pointing to a photo in the center of the sequence, saying that’s where you’re at, the end stage he said is here, touching the wall beyond the visual aid, making the point there will be no teeth.
As the world turns, I am working on a commission from the free online encyclopedia of Washington state history, HistoryLink.org, to write a bio about a favorite historical character, Eldridge Morse, who wrote in his unpublished memoir, dated September 1892, that he would pull out his dentures in front of the Indians … and I’m not sure for what reason.
Here is the story from his unpublished, untitled memoir, dated September 18, 1892, held by the Snohomish Historical Society.
“Some eleven years ago I went up Skagit River near Hamilton, thence northward to Nooksack river. After traveling over four days down that river I encountered two old, gray-headed Indians in a small canoe. They were near the head of canoe navigation, and so far above settlement that they did not deem it possible to find a real white man, alone, that far above the settlements. They had seen my footsteps before, and concluded that some shiu, or ghost, was around. Knowing by their action, their terror, I succeeded in cornering them and getting into their canoe. In answer to their many questions, I made them understand that I was the original, genuine, old S’Be-ow, temporarily, for my own convenience, in the form of a white man, but at heart, as much a siwash as ever. I told them I had been treaty making among the ghosts and sick siwashes of Mount Baker. They stood in mortal fear of these terrible beings. No money could hire them to ascend that mountain. I said if they treated me well they would never have any more trouble from that source, but if they did not there would be no end of their trouble. Then proved myself to be S’Be-ow by taking out my teeth, offering to take myself to pieces and put myself together again or to take one them to pieces and put him together again. They were fully convinced, begged me not to hurt them, and cried “Wake! wake! mika delate S’Be-ow,” or “Don’t don’t you are the real S’Be-ow!”
The two Indians took Morse to the settlements 35 miles away, where they told stories of meeting the genuine S’Be-ow.
“Nothing could shake their belief that I was the genuine, original S’Be-ow, with full power of performing miracles and putting myself through countless transforms and no fraud or sham,” is how Morse ends his autobiographical essay.
Morse was a prodigious writer of the Pacific Northwest and even started the first newspaper of Snohomish County, The Northern Star, but he did consider Indians to be uncivilized. His use of the word “siwash” is considered derogatory; it comes from the French word for savage. He seems to be making fun of them was my first reaction. I plan on asking colleagues if I should include this story in my essay for HistoryLink.
I am writing this letter, Sis; following the surgery this morning, Dr. Sharif completed the procedure in under 30 minutes while carrying on a conversation with his assistant, as if around the water cooler — just another Monday morning at the office!
I can feel the odd stitches with my tongue, but they will be absorbed or fall out in a week, and otherwise, no pain. I remember you had gum issues, so I'm thinking of you and wondering if being free of the body is our ultimate reward.
Thinking of you every day, dearest Sara —
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The story i was working on is now published -- https://historylink.org/File/22820
Even Google doesn't know: "It looks like there aren't many great matches for your search --"
when l come across a definition, you will be the first to know, Chuck --thanks for the inquiry.