Panic in the Bog — A Cautionary Tale

The day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday, has become synonymous with early-morning mall runs, limited-time deals, and those impulse buys you didn’t know you needed. Before online shopping, it was tradition in my house to head out at dawn and join the crowds. One year, my son and I snagged a pair of $5 slippers for him — 75% off. It felt like winning a small, cozy lottery.

But long before Black Friday doorbusters and online carts, another “Black” day made history — and nearly sank one of America’s most beloved holiday foods. That day, was Black Monday, also known as the Great Cranberry Scare.

A Berry With a Backstory
Before the panic, the cranberry had already earned its place on the American table. Its blossom, shaped like a crane’s beak, inspired the original name “craneberry.” Native to North America, the fruit was a staple for Native Americans, who used it in everything from breads to pemmican, a long-lasting protein-rich food.

Commercial cranberry growing took off in the 1800s after a Massachusetts farmer discovered that spreading sand on bogs improved growth. Soon ‘cranberry fever’ swept New England, turning wetlands into productive bogs and making Cape Cod synonymous with the fruit. Over time, cranberry farms spread beyond New England to states like New Jersey, Oregon, and Washington, expanding the industry nationwide.

Innovation made cranberries a true industry: wooden scoops replaced hand-picking, immigrant labor expanded production, and wet harvesting — those iconic Ocean Spray–style flooded bogs — made it possible to gather berries more quickly. And thanks to Marcus Urann, the lawyer turned cranberry farmer who founded what became Ocean Spray, Americans gained cranberry juice cocktail (1933), cranberry syrup (1939), and, in 1941, the famously divisive jellied cranberry ‘log.’”

Then Came Black Monday
On November 9, 1959, just weeks before Thanksgiving, Secretary of Health, Education and Welfare Arthur Flemming made a stunning announcement: cranberries from Oregon and Washington had tested positive for aminotriazole, a herbicide that caused thyroid tumors in lab rats.

A brand-new law, the Delaney Clause, banned any cancer-causing additive in food — zero tolerance, no matter the level. Flemming warned that if shoppers couldn’t confirm the source of their cranberries, they should avoid them “to be on the safe side.” Panic erupted. Stores cancelled orders; warehouses filled with returned cans. LIFE magazine printed alternative holiday sides. The White House served applesauce instead of cranberry sauce.

In the end, only about 0.5% of the crop was contaminated. Scientists later explained that a person would need to eat 15,000 pounds of cranberries each day for years to match the rat-study dosage. But fear had already done its work. Growers lost tens of millions of dollars, and Congress eventually compensated them with roughly $10 million.

The incident reshaped food regulation — and opened the door to decades of debates on additives, dyes, sweeteners, and other risks both real and perceived.

A Tart Lesson
More than 60 years later, the cranberry scare still resonates — especially now, in an era of rapid information, misinformation, and powerful opinions. Then it was a chemical that shook public trust. Today, the threat comes from anti-science policies gaining traction at the highest levels of government.

Public-health experts warn that under current HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. — long known for promoting vaccine skepticism and pushing scientifically unsupported policies — core protections could weaken and erode confidence in decades of evidence-based research.

This Thanksgiving, let’s give thanks not only for our loved ones and the meal, but also for the scientists and public-health champions who defend evidence when it’s questioned — or denied. Now more than ever, we must hold fast to science, reason, and truth.

Happy reading,
Suzanne Daniels, Ph.D.

Enjoy the weekend!

Best,
Suzanne
Suzanne Daniels, Ph.D.
AEPC President
P.O. Box 1416
Birmingham, MI 48012
Office: (248) 792-2187
Email: [email protected]

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