February 2, 2006
The Great Pandemic also touched Connecticut.
It struck the week of September 11th, laying low Navy personnel in New London. Just two weeks later, about 2,000 cases of influenza were reported in and around the city.
On September 27th, the Public Health Service declared, "influenza is prevalent throughout the eastern and southern parts of the state and it appears to be increasing." It was. Three days later, 9,000 cases were reported. A week later, that number had doubled. Then it redoubled, and redoubled again. By the end of October, an estimated 180,000 people had been struck by influenza.
By that point, more than 300 people had died here in Hartford. The Hartford Golf Club became an emergency hospital. A Public Health Service officer from Hartford named F.S. Echols fell to the pandemic. A nurse named Beatrice Springer Wilde recounted the tragic story of four Yale students that she treated. They had become ill while traveling and decided to get off the train in Hartford. Their last steps were taken from the train station to the hospital, for within twenty-four hours, all were dead.
February 7, 2006
The Great Pandemic also touched Massachusetts.
It first came here, to Boston. On August 27th, 1918, two sailors at Commonwealth Pier reported in sick with influenza. The next day, there were eight. By the third day, influenza had struck nearly 60 people.
That fire soon became an inferno, and within two weeks, 2,000 officers and men had been struck.
On September 8th, a spark of influenza touched Camp Devens, a military camp near Boston with about 50,000 soldiers. The conflagration that erupted is difficult to comprehend.
A physician - known only as Roy - described the situation as it appeared in late September. He wrote:
'This epidemic started about four weeks ago, and has developed so rapidly that the camp is demoralized and all ordinary work is held up till it has passed....These men start with what appears to be an ordinary attack of . . . Influenza, and when brought to the Hospital they very rapidly develop the most viscous type of Pneumonia that has ever been seen.
Two hours after admission they have the Mahogany spots over the cheek bones, and a few hours later you can begin to see the Cyanosis (pronounce "Cy-an-no-sis") extending from their ears and spreading all over the face, until it is hard to distinguish the colored men from the white.
It is only a matter of a few hours then until death comes, and it is simply a struggle for air until they suffocate. It is horrible. One can stand it to see one, two or twenty men die, but to see these poor devils dropping like flies sort of gets on your nerves. We have been averaging about 100 deaths per day, and still keeping it up.'
By the time the pandemic finally passed, an estimated 45,000 people had perished in Massachusetts.
February 22, 2006
That Great Pandemic also touched Alabama.
It first appeared in late September 1918 in Florence, Alabama (in the northwest corner of the state). Just three weeks later, over 25,000 cases of influenza in the state had been reported to the U.S. Public Health Service.
It is impossible to know for sure exactly how many Alabamans were affected by the flu, since regular reports to the U.S. Public Health Service were never made. But it is known that during the last two weeks of October, more than 37,000 cases of the flu erupted in Alabama.
People around the state died by the hundreds.
One man, J.D. Washburn served in a medical unit in Alabama during the war and recalled his experience:
'We worked like dogs from about seven in the morning until the last patient of the day had been checked in or out-usually about 10 o'clock that night. The men died like flies, and several times we ran out of boxes to bury them in, and had to put their bodies in cold storage until more boxes were shipped in. It was horrible.'
March 17, 2006
That Great Pandemic also touched Illinois.
Chicago was then the nation's second largest city and the country's largest rail hub. As a consequence, the disease reached the city quickly. Before the disease reached this city, overconfident public health officers proclaimed, "We have the Spanish influenza situation well in hand now."
Then the disease came.
Influenza was reported in Chicago on September 27th. Within two weeks, it was epidemic throughout the state. Cities like Kankakee and Rockford were as hard hit as rural sections and coal-mining districts.
But Chicago saw the most awful impacts. While the pandemic raged toward its dreadful peak, the city saw an average of 12,000 new cases each week. More than 2,100 Chicagoans died during the second week of October. More than 2,300 died during the third week.
The city ran out of hearses. Signs were posted banning public funerals, and limiting funeral attendees to no more than 10, in addition to the undertaker, the minister, and necessary drivers. No bodies were allowed in churches.
A U.S. Public Health Services Officer named Jo Cobb, who was working at the city's Marine Hospital wrote to a friend, "Our beds were filled as fast as emptied."
Navy nurse Josie Brown, who served at Naval Hospital in Great Lakes remembered:
"The morgues were packed almost to the ceiling with bodies stacked one on top of another. The morticians worked day and night. You could never turn around without seeing a big red truck loaded with caskets for the train station so bodies could be sent home. We didn't have the time to treat them. We didn't take temperatures; we didn't even have time to take blood pressure. We would give them a little hot whisky toddy; that's about all we had time to do. They would have terrific nosebleeds with it. Sometimes the blood would just shoot across the room. You had to get out of the way or someone's nose would bleed all over you."
March 30, 2006
That Great Pandemic also touched California.
The first few cases were reported in Belvedere and San Gabriel in Los Angeles County in the last days of September 1918. The next week, more than 500 cases were reported.
In Los Angeles, local health officials were optimistic. They said, "If ordinary precautions are observed, there is no cause for alarm."
They could not have been more wrong. The disease was exploding around the state.
Within two days of issuing that statement, schools and churches were shut down to prevent the spread of the disease. Theaters were closed sometimes for good as they could not withstand the loss of revenue.
By the first week of November, more than 115,000 cases and hundreds of deaths across the state had been reported.
Makeshift hospitals were hastily opened to deal with the surge of patients that were overwhelming the health care system.
In San Francisco and elsewhere, mandates compelled the wearing of masks in public on penalty of fines or even imprisonment.
The San Francisco Chronicle reported, "The man who wears no mask will likely become isolated, suspected, and regarded as a slacker. Like a man of means without a Liberty Loan button, he'll be shy of friends."
For more historical record, you can read the accounts at:
www.pandemicflu.gov/