NORTHAMPTON - Growing up in Manhattan in the 1970s, I had occasion to get to know a boy a few years older than me - let's call him Hugh. To describe Hugh as privileged would be an understatement. His parents were one of New York's über chic couples of the day.

Mom was an international socialite and model who had made the cover of Vogue. Dad was a renowned plastic surgeon. And the extravagant parties they threw in their penthouse were the stuff of New York lore. And Hugh? He was the kid with everything. A jet-setter pedigree. A bedroom stocked with amazing toys. And movie star good looks.

But there was something else about those looks. As a toddler, Hugh had contracted paralytic poliomyelitis, a crippling and potentially fatal infectious disease. What most of us know simply as "polio" spared his life but viciously ravaged his left leg. Over the years, Hugh had grown. The leg had not. It withered, becoming hideously deformed and all but useless. It had to be encased in a grotesque latticework of steel and leather.

Yet even this brace wasn't enough: Hugh got around at a hobble, with the aid of a crutch. And that's how he was the first time I saw him. I remember the moment well. I was 8 years old. It scared me to see it.

At some point Hugh underwent excruciating limb-lengthening surgery involving the insertion of some sort of bone extension. When he described the procedure, and the pain, all I could think of was a medieval torture rack. At least, after that, he was able to walk a bit better.

Hugh may have had everything, but polio does not discriminate. The boy did time in hell. (As the father of a 5-year-old, I prefer not to imagine what it must have been like for his parents.)

And Hugh was far from alone. Those of us old enough to remember know that polio was one of the most dreaded childhood diseases of the 20th century. In the United States alone, one year - 1952 - saw over 57,000 cases resulting in the death or paralysis of nearly 25,000 people. Those in the grip of the disease passed through a looking glass of sorts, into a nightmare world of iron lungs, full body plaster casts and rattling braces.

With the development of effective vaccines, the incidence of polio in this country dwindled. The last reported case here was in 1979. But as recently as 1988, the disease remained endemic in over 125 countries, with an estimated 350,000 cases annually. Unlike Hugh, the vast majority of those victims lived in developing countries and lacked access to anything but the most rudimentary health care (not to speak of the vaccine that might have prevented infection in the first place).

Thankfully, 1988 also saw the launch of the Global Polio Eradication Initiative, spearheaded by the World Health Organization, Rotary International, the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and UNICEF. This tremendous effort has been wildly successful. Rotary alone has contributed close to $1 billion to the cause; Rotarians have administered billions of oral doses of vaccine all over the world.

As of 2010, the number of polio cases worldwide has dropped precipitously. The disease remains endemic in only four countries (Afghanistan, India, Nigeria and Pakistan), with persistent pockets of transmission in a few other places. The goal of total eradication is actually within reach.

But the disease, where it still lurks, remains as aggressive as ever. It can come back - and in a big way. In short, so long as a single child remains infected, children all over the world are at risk.

Today is World Polio Day. I urge you to learn more about this disease, and what you can do to help eradicate it, by visiting www.polioeradication.org or contacting the Northampton Rotary Club.

Eric Lucentini is president of the Northampton Rotary Club.