Jean Waschgaw the Iron-Eater

Jean Waschgaw the Iron-Eater By FRANK JONAS TALES which come from afar always carry with them an element of doubt, not the sort of doubt which stimulates a warm discussion, but rather a type of carefree superstition concerning the source of an extraordinary in- teresting anecdote. Recently the writer had the good fortune to visit at the home of a brother in the Church who him- self is a gifted and loquacious story-teller. TN Belgium a person tells a story ■■ which perhaps may be a little unusual to another person and the latter asks the question: "And where did you hear that?" "I read it in a newspaper," comes the reply. "In (a newspaper?" again queries the listener. "Yes," responds the tale-bearer. "But in an American newspaper?" is the final question. "Why yes, of course," comes the delinquent af- firmation. The foregoing indi- cates, of course, what Belgians think of far away America where almost anything can happen, and . this attitude is taken simply be- cause that envied country is too far away for a distorted anecdote to be verified. But the following account is true in every detail, and it may be confirmed by hundreds of living witnesses — happily for the author. HPHIS story is about a young ■■ Beige, who is not only a mem- ber of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but also an ambitious officer in the branch M. I. A. His name is Jean Waschgaw — he himself writes it John, be- cause he expects to come to Zion within a year, and therefore wishes to take advantage of every oppor- tunity of pronouncing English. His home is in a busy little in- dustrial town of Belgium where the sparkling light produced by the never-ceasing fires in the white- heated furnaces makes lamp posts unnecessary at night-time. A chapter could be written about the strangely interesting life of Seraing — where the milk' wagons are drawn by muzzled dogs — but all this would only be a ponderous, although very interesting, tangent to the purpose of this eulogy, which is to proclaim the accom- plishments of a member of the Church in this far-away, turbulent little land. An outstanding and rare specimen of physical man- hood has been chosen for this il- lustrative material. Brother John is affectionately called by his nearest friends, and the author, mostly the latter, the "iron-eater." He is 'given this metallic and contradictory sobri- quet because he is able to do every- thing with iron but eat it. '"THE story told by the accom- panying photograph is not in any sense a myth, but is an actu- ality. This modern Sampson, like the blinded giant of Biblical lore, brings the house down with his amazing performances. He does things with forged iron bars which no other individual of similar weight in all Belgium can possibly do and his repertoire is large and varied. The iron which the photo shows f is more than three yards long; it is one-fourth of an inch in thickness and one and one- fourth inches in width — by no means a pliable silk ribbon. ; He winds and bends this around his legs, his arms-and even around his neck! The latter is a very dangerous trick, something which might easily be fatal should he suddenly lose his strength. His masterpiece is produced with a horseshoe of very substantial measurements. He straightens out any sort of a steed tire and then brings it back into its proper shape — so the poor mount won't go barefooted. Jean Waschgaw EVERY Friday evening he con- ducts a class of gymnastiques with a great variety of pupils, from little girls to old men, all friends and members of the Church. While they exercise with tooth picks, in comparison, he demonstrates with ninety pounds of solid iron. The Church, through the individual instruc- tion which this auburn-haired youngster is giving each week, fs meeting with marked success in an effort to improve the bodies as well as elevate the souls of these good folk, young and old. Housewives dread the approach of this young man, for he is al- ways distorting the shape of fire- pokers. He seizes any kind of a cinder disturber, and strikes ' it across his forearm until one-half of what was a fire-poker is at right angles with the other half. The surprising detail of all these performances is in knowing that he is but nineteen years of age and doesn't weigh a gram more than- 155 pounds. gELGIUM'S youngest king of iron is a shining member of the local Mutual Improvement As- sociation, and is a worthy example of what this organization will do for a young man. His habits of living are admirably clean. He neither smokes nor drinks — a feat in itself in Europe where liquor and tobacco are the gods before which most people bow. (Continued on page 637)