Recollections o f the past m I recently told a Navy dental of ficer of the recollections I have of my father’s connection with the first use of acrylic material for dentures, and he suggested that this material be sent to you as of possible historical interest. This was all told me by my father in letters and conversation a long time ago. My father, George W. Stryker, practiced dentistry in Everett, Wash, for many years. In about 1924 or 1925, he and a neighbor chemist (whose name I have never known) worked in the chemist’s basement laboratory on perfecting an acrylic material that could be used to replace the rubber vulcanite that was presently being used, main ly for dentures. The chemist was very secretive about how he made the basic material and would never tell my father the amount of each ingredient used. For his own protection, one night my father marked all of the bottles of these ingredients and then re marked them after a batch was made, thus being able to construct the for mula. It was fortunate that he did this as his partner soon left town and went East where he sold the idea to someone; my father was out in the cold, having given up his practice to work on this project. The new owner could not make a go of it so my fath er went to Portland, Ore, from where he had originally come, and set up his own laboratory. He produced a material called ITECO, named, as he told me, because it was a “ con-
dinsite” product. He struggled along for a while with this, shifting to San Francisco for a period, but finally was able to interest the Coe Labor atory in Chicago in what he had. He went to Chicago, set up a man ufacturing unit in the laboratory, and was very successful in the man ufacture and sale of the product, called Coedal at that time. He told me that the material for a full den ture cost pennies to manufacture and sold for $2. Unfortunately, the de pression hit about that time and Coe could not pay him all of what he had coming to him out of the venture. They did, however, give him labor atory space and he operated rather independently for some time, selling through the Coe organization. As I remember it, this was about the time he decided to patent the process. Shortly thereafter, the Du pont organization in Wilmington, Del, began to put out a competing material. However, my father con tinued to work from Chicago and later from California where he made his material from a home laboratory and used, as I remember, scrap plas tic material as his basic substance. He had many friends in the industry by then and sold enough to live com fortably for several years. I once asked him how he was fixed for money for the rest of his life and his reply was, “ Fine, if I don’t live too long.” He lived until he was 89 and died at the Elk’s National Home in Bedford, Va. One incident I have never for gotten: one of the first dentures made by my father with the new material was for my mother. He used to bor
row it to take to dental conventions and, to prove its strength, would wrap it in a handkerchief and step on it. My mother found out about this from another dentist and that was the end of his “ exhibit.” When I hear of the trouble young men are having in getting an educa tion and training in dentistry, I al ways tell of how my father and a couple of my uncles did it. My grand father, David Stryker, escorted wagon trains over the old Oregon Trail. He was a physician, dentist, bricklayer, stonemason, and preacher—a not too unusual com bination of talents in the pioneer days. He always maintained that dentistry was the best of the lot. To get his sons started in it, he gave each of them a portable drill operated by a foot treadle, forceps, and tools necessary to fill teeth. He taught them to fill and extract teeth by having them work on the Chinese laborers who had been imported nearby to work on the railroad. When they were proficient, he gave each a horse and told him to “ get going.” By that he meant to go out into Oregon from the town of Drain, where they lived, and make enough money to go to dental school in Port land. They did this by going into every small town and hamlet and practiced “ filling and pulling” until it was found that they had no licenses and they were told to move on. They worked out of caves in one area. I believe that three of them finished dental school and received their li censes to practice in Oregon. JO E W . ST R Y K E R R E A R A D M IR A L U SN (R E T )
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR / JADA, Vol. 91, November 1975 ■ 931
dinsite” product. He struggled along for a while with this, shifting to San Francisco for a period, but finally was able to interest the Coe Labor atory in Chicago in what he had. He went to Chicago, set up a man ufacturing unit in the laboratory, and was very successful in the man ufacture and sale of the product, called Coedal at that time. He told me that the material for a full den ture cost pennies to manufacture and sold for $2. Unfortunately, the de pression hit about that time and Coe could not pay him all of what he had coming to him out of the venture. They did, however, give him labor atory space and he operated rather independently for some time, selling through the Coe organization. As I remember it, this was about the time he decided to patent the process. Shortly thereafter, the Du pont organization in Wilmington, Del, began to put out a competing material. However, my father con tinued to work from Chicago and later from California where he made his material from a home laboratory and used, as I remember, scrap plas tic material as his basic substance. He had many friends in the industry by then and sold enough to live com fortably for several years. I once asked him how he was fixed for money for the rest of his life and his reply was, “ Fine, if I don’t live too long.” He lived until he was 89 and died at the Elk’s National Home in Bedford, Va. One incident I have never for gotten: one of the first dentures made by my father with the new material was for my mother. He used to bor
row it to take to dental conventions and, to prove its strength, would wrap it in a handkerchief and step on it. My mother found out about this from another dentist and that was the end of his “ exhibit.” When I hear of the trouble young men are having in getting an educa tion and training in dentistry, I al ways tell of how my father and a couple of my uncles did it. My grand father, David Stryker, escorted wagon trains over the old Oregon Trail. He was a physician, dentist, bricklayer, stonemason, and preacher—a not too unusual com bination of talents in the pioneer days. He always maintained that dentistry was the best of the lot. To get his sons started in it, he gave each of them a portable drill operated by a foot treadle, forceps, and tools necessary to fill teeth. He taught them to fill and extract teeth by having them work on the Chinese laborers who had been imported nearby to work on the railroad. When they were proficient, he gave each a horse and told him to “ get going.” By that he meant to go out into Oregon from the town of Drain, where they lived, and make enough money to go to dental school in Port land. They did this by going into every small town and hamlet and practiced “ filling and pulling” until it was found that they had no licenses and they were told to move on. They worked out of caves in one area. I believe that three of them finished dental school and received their li censes to practice in Oregon. JO E W . ST R Y K E R R E A R A D M IR A L U SN (R E T )
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR / JADA, Vol. 91, November 1975 ■ 931
