Einstein kin had role in Duluth fluoride fight...

Written by Jim Heffernan for the DuluthNewsTribune/7-5-25

Yikes! The fluoride-in-the-drinking-water issue is back! And I don’t use exclamation points indiscriminately (there goes two). I allow myself about a dozen a year. But I can’t help it because the fluoridation issue was so large a part of my early professional life, if you can call a neophyte “cub” newspaper reporter a professional. I really shouldn’t.

 

I came to work at this newspaper in the first half of the 1960s and ran smack-dab into the same fluoridation issue that is roiling the country now, but back then was hot right here in Duluth, and even involved Albert Einstein. (More on that later.)

 

 It shows, once again, that the more things change the more they stay the same. Except for diapers, of course.

 

Local leaders had decided that Duluth water should be fluoridated to prevent tooth decay, especially in children. Many citizens opposed such an idea as dangerous to the health of children and adults, regardless of race, color, creed, national origin, foot size or eye color (that’s everybody).

 

And now these disagreements are back, thanks largely to Robert F. Kennedy Jr., the nation’s Trump-appointed health secretary and leading cod liver oil advocate. He has vociferously inveighed against fluoride, claiming it is unsafe for human consumption. Fluoride has already been outlawed in many venues: Fluorida — oops, Florida — and Utah have banned it in public water systems statewide.

 

Hmmm…I wonder what else those states have in common. Not weather.

 

I actually recall Duluth’s fluoridation fight with some fondness. Youthful memories are often golden. I worked nights in my new job at this newspaper, learning as I went along. I hadn’t majored in journalism in college so I had a lot to learn. My basket-weaving background was inadequate preparation.

 

But working evenings for the morning paper (there were two, six days a week — called by some the Morning Liar and Evening Repeater. I was assigned to cover numerous gatherings where fluoridation was debated, feeling like a big cheese reporter already. City officials would praise fluoridation by extolling its positive effect on the teeth of children as they grew up, and adults as they aged.

 

Opponents considered fluoride in our drinking water a poison that would destroy everyone’s health. Evil communism was even blamed. There was word that dentists feared it would put them out of business, but the opponents had only one dentist who would speak out publicly.

 

So off I’d go in a peppy press car to various public meetings with notebook in hand — community clubs and other meeting places where the two sides could fight it out. Many were quite well attended by people representing each side, together with others just wanting to hear what it was all about. Then I’d race back to the newspaper and, to the best of my fledgling ability, write it up for the morning edition.

 

My most memorable moment in this crusade was at a large community club meeting attended, in spirit, by Albert Einstein, thanks to one of the most strident Duluth opponents. The wife of a high-level city official, she led the antis, strongly condemning fluoridation at every opportunity. You wonder how that marriage was going, with her husband’s employer plugging it.

 

After covering the public meeting, as I was about to leave, she stopped me to further emphasize her anti-fluoride views. Her main point to me was that Albert Einstein’s nephew opposed fluoridating water, the implication, of course, being that: 1) Albert Einstein was the smartest man in the world; 2) his nephew must, perforce, be very smart too; 3) the nephew opposes fluoridation, and 4) therefore Duluth should not fluoridate its water.

 

It was different theory of relativity than the one Albert Einstein was famous for. You never know what your relatives might do.

 

All of this came to an end here in 1967 when the Minnesota Legislature passed a law requiring fluoridation of all municipal water systems. Duluth complied and I’ve been drinking it ever since, and that’s a long, long time. 

 

Hold it! Let me check my pulse.

 

The city of Brainerd, Minn., resisted, though. The fluoridation fight continued there for almost 15 years with that city finally complying in 1980, much to the chagrin of many no-Brainerdites.

 

Finally, and for the record, of course I moved on from those neophyte years and became a seasoned journalist, covering many of the important stories throughout the Northland. In recognition of that, I was once awarded the Pullet Surprise for outstanding reporting on the rooster and hen competition at the Carlton County Fair.

 

But I hate to boast.

 

Jim Heffernan is a former Duluth News Tribune news and opinion writer and continues as a columnist. He can be reached at jimheffernan@jimheffernan.org and maintains a blog at www.jimheffernan.org.

What’s all this about artificial intelligence?

 

Ahead of his time on hairstyles

Written by Jim Heffernan for the Duluth NewsTribune/8-5-23   

The following screed blew into my lap while sitting in a park one day in the merry-merry month of May. Or it might have been in June by the light of the silvery moon. Then again, maybe it was a night in July, beneath the starlit sky.

 Whatever. I looked the blown-in-by-the-wind mini-manifesto over and decided to share it.

 

It begins: “What’s all this talk about artificial intelligence? I’m one of the smartest people I know, and it’s the real McCoy, Buster.  Not artificial.

 

“Describing it they just use the initials A.I. thinking everybody knows what it means. Well, there ain’t nuttin' artificial about my intelligence. Everybody whom knows me knows that. I don’t believe in it. My great uncle once removed (from the hoosegow) had a wooden leg that we all admired. Took it off every night to sleep. That’s artificial leg intelligence on display right there at home.

 

“At first I thought A.I. stood for Albert Instine (ain’t sure I spelt it rite), the smartest man on Earth when he was alive. He came up with the theory of relativity which led to people understanding about their relatives, like how they were related to their third cousin. We were a little confused about my great uncle with the wooden leg until Albert Instine cleared it all up with his theory of relativity.

 

“I don’t see no need for artificial intelligence when we — I’m talkin’ men like me who think deep alot — can figure everything out all by ourselves without using no computers. Can’t help it; we just know stuff. How? I learnt my education out behind the barn. That’s all you need. Put your jeans on before your boots. Hello?

 

“But back to A.I. (Albert Instine). He liked to look up at the stars at night when it wasn’t too cloudy. You could tell he was really smart by the way he wore his hair. He was decades ahead of his time on men’s hairstyle, which involved strict avoidance of barbers. That was one of his greatest accomplishments. Saves money too. He was so admired I read where a farmer named one of his chickens after him.

 

“But enough about Albert Instine.

 

“So now we hear that the writers and actors in Hollywood are on strike because they fear they could be replaced by artificial intelligence. If you ask me, it’s about time. I don’t see TV much (the wife likes “Price is Right”) but every time I turn it on, I doze off. I say they need artificial intelligence.

 

“Then I read somewheres that AI might someday surpass human intelligence. Well, they better not try to surpass me, that’s for sure. When I was in school the teacher told my parents I might be the smartest kid in the class if I ever showed up. This was before I quit school after eighth grade to get started on my chosen field, to become a circus clown (don’t laugh, it’s a serious business), but that never worked out when the circuses sold the elephants, leaving the clowns with nothing to shovel.

 

“In the meantime I traveled around the county alot stopping here and there at one of our lakes to fish. I got damn good at it too, pulling them in head over tail until some game warden came along claiming you needed a license from the state to fish. What? The state owns the fish? All the walleyes? All the bass? Both small mouth and big mouth?

 

“That was when I decided to enter politics, and you know where that can lead. I never went to jail, though. Politics is a pretty good deal.

 

“I better cut it off right here. Just give me three squares a day, a nice recliner for watchin’ the Twins on the tube, a six pack of brew, a friendly mutt and a loyal wifey to bring home the bacon and take care of the domicile (fancy word — told you I was smarter than most) and I’ll get along just fine. 

 

“No artificial intelligence needed, nohow. I got the real thing.

 

“Finis. (Yup, I know my Latin too. Then there’s Sempis Fideler. Go tell THAT to the Marines!)”

 

Jim Heffernan is a former Duluth News Tribune news and opinion writer and continues as a columnist. He can be reached at jimheffernan@jimheffernan.org and maintains a blog at www.jimheffernan.org.

My favorite scientist, and related ruminations...

By Jim Heffernan

Today we ask the question, inspired by a fragment heard on public radio, “Who is your favorite scientist?”

Hmmm. I’ve accumulated many “favorites” in various fields over the years, but never thought to select a favorite scientist. Maybe that’s because I’ve never taken to science that all much.

Of course most of us are forced to study science in school. That was always a struggle for me. I did learn to avoid science whenever I had a choice, like in college where you can emphasize other disciplines, but even in higher education you’ve got take some science courses to fill out your curriculum.

I took as little as possible, did poorly, and moved over to the English department by way of the department of Social Sciences, a science that has nothing to do with science in its classical sense. I am not regarded as a social scientist, even by myself, although if forced to choose, I am my favorite social scientist.

Got that?

So now to choosing a favorite scientist. As I think about it, I have identified one (to be revealed later). But it took a while, as I ruminated about scientists I know, even if only slightly. At first I couldn’t think of any, but then Albert Einstein came to mind, of course. He was probably a physicist, but all physicists are scientists even if all scientists are not physicists.

Albert Einstein

I suppose Einstein is the No. 1 scientist of all time, or at least modern and post-modern times. I’m old enough to remember him quite well when he was still alive, his wild hairstyle way ahead of its time, which was the first thing you noticed about Albert Einstein when he showed up in the newsreels of my youth. Who knew that by the late 20^th and early 21^st centuries half the males you see on the street would have Albert Einstein hair? Especially those interested in the guitar.

Still, hair is important when it comes to being a scientist. And as any reader who bothered to get this far will see, it plays an important role in my final selection for favorite scientist.

But first, allow me to describe my elimination process. After Einstein, I thought maybe Niels Bohr would be a good favorite scientist to choose. I forget what Bohr did in science but if I know the name it must have been plenty impressive. Enrico Fermi? Same difference.

Then there’s Linus Pauling, who is deeply respected for many serious scientific things, I think, but I remember him mainly for saying that Vitamin C taken in huge quantities would prevent, or cure, a cold. Not a cold front, but a “common” cold that results in sneezing, coughing, and the running of the nose together with a feeling of malaise, achy bones and general misery. If the foregoing seems like I know a lot about the common cold, rest assured that I do. Don’t we all?

After Pauling suggested taking mega-Vitamin C to cure them, I tried it one cold, maybe even two or three colds. After all, Linus Pauling is a great scientist, so why not do what he does to combat the common cold?

But it didn’t seem to work for me, and I gave up the Vitamin C regimen. Nothing works for a cold, I concluded, and even gave up on Vicks Vapo-Rub some years ago.

But we need a favorite scientist, not the best cold nostrum. A person could go way back to Gallelio or Newton, I guess, but they seem old-hat, so I won’t choose either one as my favorite scientist.

But now the suspense is over. I will reveal my favorite scientist. It is Christopher Lloyd. Christopher Lloyd is the actor who portrayed the eccentric scientist in the “Back to the Future” movies. 

Christopher Lloyd & Michael J. Fox
in the movie, "Back to the Future"

No one does science better than Lloyd. He’s got the wild hair and the desperate look in his eyes that might, in another forum, recommend Vitamin C for a cold. His laboratory, or garage, or whatever, was filled with scientific looking junk, and he moved around it in rapid herky-jerky motions just like scientists should if they know their stuff. He harnessed lightning, for crying out loud. Only on screen, I admit, but not since Dr. Frankenstein has anyone so effectively harnessed lightning.

Dr. Frankenstein, by the way, is my second-favorite scientist, another movie character. “He’s alive! “He’s alive,” he cries as the monster he’s pieced together from grave-robbed body parts begins to stir after his encounter with lightning up on the roof of the laboratory. For the record, Frankenstein is the scientist not the monster, a fact that has been overlooked by just about everyone.

I must say Dr. Frankenstein takes the No. 1 prize for having a lot of scientific-looking test tubes, vials and coiled wires in his laboratory.

But my vote for favorite scientist still goes to Christopher Lloyd. Who’s yours?

What would Albert Einstein’s nephew do? Reflections of Duluth’s fluoridation battle fought 50 years ago as the battle continues today in Oregon

By Jim Heffernan

 Portland, Oregon, is going through a fluoridation fight. Yes, just when you thought the issue of adding trace amounts of fluoride to public water supplies to combat tooth decay in children was over everywhere, here it is again -- in the 21^st century, no less.

Duluth went through a long and sometimes bitter fluoridation fight almost 50 years ago. I was in the middle of it, not as an advocate for one side or the other, but as a reporter covering the issue for the Duluth daily newspapers.

The pro-fluoridation side won in Duluth, but the antis put up a whale of a fight.

Objection usually centers on the belief by some people that government has no business “medicating” the population. That’s come up in the Portland fight, according to news reports, and it was an argument in Duluth in the early 1960s when our battle royal was fought.

But googling through recent news reports on the Portland battle, one thing is not mentioned that was bitterly argued in Duluth: That fluoridation of water supplies was a communist plot.

Why would the communists sneak fluoride into American water supplies? To undermine public health so that they could take over the United States, was the right-wing theory in the cold war years that many of the fluoridation fights took place. Hard-core conservatives don’t like the government involved in any aspect of health care.

I heard that argument frequently – at every fluoridation debate I covered, in fact – as the two sides in Duluth faced off at public meetings. On the pro side the leader was a prominent dentist. The antis had a well-known businessman and also the wife of the city’s fire chief.

It was she who introduced an entirely new aspect to the battle here that I hadn’t heard before, nor have I heard it since.

I was covering a fluoridation debate at the Duluth Heights Community Club one night when Mrs. Fire Chief pulled me aside as the meeting was breaking up. She was a fervent anti-fluoridation crusader, hardly able to contain her zeal.

Of course I can’t precisely quote her almost 50 years later, but I’ll approximate what she said, putting it in quotation marks for dramatic effect. Taking me by the arm, she said, “Did you know that Albert Einstein’s nephew in Seattle is against fluoridation?”

No, I didn’t, I had to allow. In fact, I didn’t know Albert Einstein even had a nephew in Seattle or anywhere else.

But this experience had a profound effect on me that continues to this day. Whenever I am confronted with an important decision, I ask myself, what would Albert Einstein’s nephew do? I can’t say it’s worked out that well.

Let me finish with a quote from Gen. Jack D. Ripper, the crazed American general in the 1964 movie “Dr. Strangelove” that might have propagated the communist plot myth. Here’s Gen. Ripper describing Russians:

“Vodka, that’s what they drink…on no account will a Commie ever drink water, and not without good reason… Have you ever heard of a thing called fluoridation of water? Do you realize that fluoridation is the most monstrously conceived and dangerous Communist plot we have ever had to face?”

Gosh, I’ve been drinking Duluth’s fluoridated water ever since and I’m still not a communist.