by Kelly Reeves
If you grew up in the 1970s and before, you’re very familiar with Vicks Salve. My friends from north of the Mason-Dixon Line called it Vicks Balm or VapoRub, but it’s all the same product in the same little blue jar.
Maybe your grandmother slathered it on your chest, back, neck, and anywhere else that seemed vaguely appropriate when you had so much as a sniffle. Or your mother wielded the little blue jar like a priceless artifact, its medicinal aroma drifting through the house with the potency of a forest of eucalyptus trees. In those days, Vicks was more than just a mentholated ointment—it was almost sinful the way it was worshipped. The only real question anyone had was, “Why is the jar so small?” Vicks Salve should have been sold in gallon paint cans.
The 1970s were a time of medical innovation, most of it happening right in your own home. Vicks VapoRub was the cure for everything. Got a cough? Vicks. Stuffy nose? Vicks. Flu? Vicks. Ashy skin? Vicks. Chapped lips? Vicks. Sunburn? Vicks. Erectile disfunction? Vi…..Wait, No! Definitely not a job for Vicks! Asthma? Vicks. Rub it on your feet and slap on some wool socks. Who knew that the secret to respiratory wellness was to strategically smear a pungent glob of goo on your extremities?
Vicks didn’t stop with those few ailments. You could find folks rubbing it on sore muscles, slapping it on bug bites, and even dabbing it in and under their noses to mask unpleasant smells. As a first responder, we all kept Vicks in our packs to cover the odors associated with dead bodies we regularly encountered. Both nostrils crammed full of Vicks Salve would almost always prevent projectile puking at the scene.
According to many folks, Vicks could cure headaches if you just massaged it into your temples with enough gusto and determination. It’s a wonder we didn’t all wander around smelling like walking cough drops.
Vicks wasn’t just a salve, it was an experience. Imagine being tucked into bed with a glob of it smeared on your chest, another under and in your nose, and just for good measure, your grandmother applying a dab behind each ear like you were getting ready for the Menthol Ball. Although the bottle clearly states “For external use only,” my Nanny would address a sore throat by forcing us to swallow a glob of Vicks. By morning, you were either cured or had evolved into a new species—Mentholatum sapiens.
Of course, Vicks was also the go-to for injuries. Stubbed your toe? Vicks. Twisted your ankle? Vicks. Emotional trauma from having to wear hand-me-down Sears Toughskins to school? A little Vicks and a pat on the shoulder. If someone could have figured out how to put it on split ends, they would have, and it would have certainly solved the problem.
To this day, one of the most enduring legends surrounding Vicks Salve is the idea that smearing it on your feet and donning socks could somehow vanquish a cough and other breathing problems. There’s no scientific explanation for this, but that didn’t stop millions of people from treating their soles like pharmaceutical battlegrounds. Whether it worked or not is still up for debate, but at the very least, it left your feet smelling like a peppermint factory. As a last resort for the severely ill, a base layer of Vicks with a slice of Vidalia onion stuck to the soles of your feet and covered with wool socks was often the proper treatment. Many folks swear by it.
Vicks Salve wasn’t just a medicinal product. Vicks could lubricate a shotgun, polish furniture, repel insects, and possibly summon spirits if applied in a pentagram formation (we never tested that one). Your grandfather swore it could fix squeaky hinges, and your aunt used it to keep cats out of her potted plants. Folks swore that a dab of Vicks salve around the stem of tomato plants would ward away hornworms and stink bugs. Vicks might even have been the secret ingredient in your mom’s homemade pastries.
Although few, side effects were possible. If Vicks caused irritation or discomfort, the solution was simple: more Vicks. The logic was undeniable. If a little dab didn’t work, a lot surely would. It was the essential oil before essential oils were cool. And no one worried about overuse because you could always just counteract any issues with a fresh coat of, yep … Vicks Salve.
Today, we know a little more about medicine and a little less about smearing pungent ointments on everything that moves. But back in the 1970s, Vicks Salve was more than just a product. It was a lifestyle, a philosophy, and a way of saying, “I have no idea what’s wrong with you, but this will definitely do something.”
If you survived your childhood coated in Vicks, congratulations. You’re practically immortal and probably have the lung capacity of an Olympic swimmer. And the next time you smell that unmistakable menthol aroma, just take a deep breath and remember: you’re one of the lucky ones.
