It’s known as the old wooden bucket delusion. Pioneers believed the best tasting water came from old wooden buckets. If they had lived as long as they thought they would sipping the swill contained in those wooden buckets they would have been outraged to learn that people are now paying $2 and $3 for bottled water. The stone well and wooden bucket are romantic symbols of country life of the 1860s, evoking nostalgia for the purity of spring water and derisive snorts at the chemical “manipulation” of modern tap water. However, our confidence in nature’s ability to purify should be balanced by an appreciation of man’s ability to pollute. The well water was indeed clean in the beginning, but settlers inadvertently contaminated it. For practical purposes the well was dug close to the farmhouse, which itself was close to the barnyard, stable, pigsty, coop and cesspool. With not even a pretense of drainage, the well exposed to all sorts of noxious matter seeping through the ground. Slush from the kitchen, festering matter from privies, and seepage from animal wastes posed a growing danger to the water supply and filled the air with vile odor. A number of health experts warned that much of the sickness and unexplained “misery” of the pioneers could be traced to polluted wells, but they were ignored – even by some physicians. “I knew a doctor,” said Oregon farmer M.T. Eales, “who had a cow-barn, a privy and a well all within one hundred feet of his kitchen.” I couldn’t help but think about that while visiting the Old West town of Berlin. The home on this journal page had a barn, privy and a well in close proximity to one another. There were rain barrels around the property too, but contrary to poplar belief, that wasn’t as good for you as one might think. While not exposed to seepage contamination, it developed its own peculiar infestation from dust and flies. I never would have made it as a pioneer. I at least like the illusion of getting a drink of water that isn’t teaming with bacteria. I don’t think I’d be able to pull that off with a horse drinking from the same container. Guess my love of the Old West only goes so far.
