(This story was originally written and recorded for Retrocast 39, released on January 14, 2026.)

A story in the St. Joseph News-Press in St. Joseph, Missouri, on September 15, 1910, recounts the death of 31-year-old Sally Roper, who had passed away a few days earlier at the state hospital for the insane, reportedly from kidney trouble. She had been admitted to the hospital on July 24, 1903.

Under normal circumstances, Sally’s death might have merited little more than a brief mention in the obituary column. Instead, the story appeared on page two under the startling headline, “Human Ostriches Outdone by Negress.”

It’s important to note that the reference to her race had absolutely nothing to do with the story. It merely reflects the racial prejudices common in newspapers of that era.

What did matter—and what drew such attention—was what doctors discovered during the autopsy. Inside Sally Roper’s body, they found:

• 452 nails ranging in length from 1-1/4” to 4” (3.2 – 10.2 cm) in length. While many were shorter nails, fifty of them were over 3” (7.6 cm) long.
• 42 screws
• 9 bolts
• 3 pieces of steel, 2-3/4” (7 cm) long each
• 7 broken coat hooks about 2” (5 cm) long.
• a 3-1/2” (8.9 cm) long nail file
• a 3” (7.6 cm) long Rambler automobile nameplate
• 5 teaspoon handles
• 5 thimbles
• 3 saltshaker tops
• 19 hooks and eyes
• 105 safety pins
• 115 hair pins
• 52 carpet tacks
• 136 common pins
• 37 needles
• A 4-foot (1.2 m) string of beads
• 85 small stones and pieces of glass

The list keeps going on from there. When totalled up, they removed 1,446 objects from her stomach.

A couple were easily explained:

First, the five teaspoon handles belonged to the nurses. They would break off the bowl of old spoons and then bend the handle into a makeshift keyring.

Then there was the case of a hospital attendant who lost an aluminum disc that was stamped, “M. K. Arsch Shoe Co., Farmington, Mo.”

That disc, as well as the beads and stones, were found to be fully intact. Yet, the corrosive nature of her stomach acids had attacked the bulk of the objects made of iron, such as the nails and screws.

Hospital staff Doctor A. H. Vandivert told the press, “We never knew that the woman had a mania of this sort. In fact, she helped clean some of the wards, and often brought to the attendants pins and nails she had picked up off the floors, so that she didn’t eat all of the hardware she came across.”

Should anyone doubt the veracity of what was pulled from her stomach, everything was laid out on a board a yard square (~ 1 square meter) and photographed. That photo was published alongside the newspaper article. Today, the collection is on display at the Glore Psychiatric Museum in Saint Joseph, Missouri.

Dr. Vandivert noted, “This is the largest assortment of this kind I ever heard of. I am going to exhibit it tonight at the meeting of the St. Joseph-Buchanan-Andrew County Medical Society.”

Interestingly, on the same page that the article discussing Sally’s passing appeared, there was an advertisement for Pape’s Diapepsin.

It begins, “Nothing will remain undigested or sour on your stomach if you will take a little Diapepsin occasionally. This powerful digestive and antacid, though as harmless and pleasant as candy, will digest and prepare for assimilation into the blood all the food you can eat.

“Eat what your stomach craves without the slightest fear of Indigestion or that you will be bothered with sour risings, Belchings, Gas on Stomach, Heartburn, Headaches from stomach, Nausea, Bad Breath, Water Brash or a feeling like you had just swallowed a lump of lead, or other disagreeable miseries. Should you be suffering now from any stomach disorder, you can get relief within five minutes.”

That’s only about half of the advertisement’s text, but you get the idea.

Maybe, just maybe, if Sally had known about Pape’s Diapepsin, she could have lived a very long life.

On the other hand, the advertisement only mentions swallowing a lump of lead, not the lumps of steel that Sally had swallowed.