Southern Sorrow: The 1918-1919 Spanish Influenza Pandemic in Pensacola, Florida

 

Southern Sorrow:

The 1918-1919 Spanish Influenza Pandemic in Pensacola, Florida

Jim Rogers

. . .

“Influenza Has Come To Town,” the Crystal Pharmacy proclaimed in bold print upon the “People and Events” page of the September 29^th edition of The Pensacola Journal.[1] Below the eye-catching line a list of therapeutic medicines promised to help “give him the reception that will run him out,” with items like tasteless castor oil, fever tonic, and grippe cure, all representing the front line defense against the incoming germ offensive.[2] Adjacent snippets detailing the personal comings and goings of townsfolk display an alarming amount of parsimony, with most disclosing descriptions of ill persons or those recovering from recent ills, and all affirming in print the spreading truth that the need for grippe cure was on the rise. While Rev. L. Jackson Adams canceled the evening service for his church on the “corner of Chase and Cervantes Street,” due to the contraction of illness by the evangelist V.O. Self, members of his church must have found themselves wondering if a trip to Crystal Pharmacy would be in their immediate futures.[3]

On the very same page of Sunday morning press, the Red Cross issued an “urgent call from headquarters in Atlanta for supplies.”[4] These supplies included bath towels, sheets, hand towels, and handkerchiefs, all of which were in constant demand throughout those hospitals in Europe charged with caring for wounded soldiers during the protracted Great War. Despite the growing evidence that pandemic illness was, by that time, spreading in Pensacola, on Sunday, September 29^th, 1918, the allied war effort still demanded national attention. On Monday, September 30^th, the very same Uncle Sam that asked for hospital supplies to assist European hospitals the day prior, parsed out his “Advice to ‘Flu’ Victims,” on the Journal’s front page.[5] In unflinching language, the article described the need to self-quarantine if sick, how to treat the illness if contracted, and even goes to great length to establish a causal connection between the origins of the scourge and Europe. The flu treatments offered by Uncle Sam were none too comforting. “Rest in bed, warmth, fresh air, abundant food, Dover’s powders for the relief of pain,” were all provided as forms of curative therapy, with the isolation of the sick in screened beds and the wearing of gauze face masks listed as the best preventive measures one could take.[6] However, one sentence would come to represent the terrifying truth among those who suffered from the Spanish Flu: “the convalescent requires careful nursing to avoid serious consequences.”[7] As would be seen, it was during convalescence that most health complications and death occurred.

In the blink of an eye, it seemed that the national and local government had changed its stance on the flu in Pensacola. City officials announced the indefinite closure of schools on September, 30^th, at the behest of Dr. Paul D. Mossman of the Public Health Service.[8] This shift in mindset was accompanied by the addition of an assistant, one Dr. W. K. Sharp Jr., to aid Dr. Mossman in his efforts to implement sanitary reforms in the city. Most physicians were still hopeful that the spread of the flu could be limited locally, and the closure of schools was no inconsequential act. County Superintendent, A. S. Edwards, justified the decision to close schools stating that “the decision was not reached hastily, but on the advice of many physicians beside the head of the U.S. Public Health Service."[9] Even in the light of Dr. Mossman’s sobering assessment of the transmissibility and danger of the Spanish Flu, Edward’s maintained a sense of optimism, stating himself that schools would most likely be opened again within a week. The reason for Edward’s, and other Pensacola officials, confidence in eradicating the epidemic on Sept. 30th is hard to pin down. However, it was no doubt tied to their belief that the flu was on the verge of being defeated in the city.[10]

By October 5^th, Surgeon General Blue was sending down direct orders from Washington, urging the closure of “churches, schools, theaters and public institutions, in every community where the malady [had] developed.”[11] The disease was spreading aggressively. Among U.S. cities and military bases were where the virus was most rapidly gaining ground, with New England, New Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania, and Alabama leading in case totals.[12] Though total figures of ill citizens were difficult to calculate, the numbers of victims among army camps were recorded with institutional efficiency. Thirteen thousand flu patients lined the beds of hospitals and medical tents.[13] Sensing the immediate need for relief funds, a headquarters for the Pensacola Emergency Relief Committee was established on 125 South Palafox street, occupying the same office building as the Liberty Loan Committee.[14] On its opening day, October 5^th, 1918, the Pensacola Emergency Relief Committee began soliciting monetary donations and the aid of young boys from the local area to deliver medications to those sick with flu. Meanwhile, the Liberty Loan Drive was suspended indefinitely due to an excess of sick workers.[15]

As of October 10^th, the flu had spread to the Pacific coast. The wave of grippe now extended from east of the Mississippi westward, with no state spared.[16] Despite this fact, a conflicting scene played out on the front page of the Pensacola Journal that Thursday morning. While on the left-hand side of the paper, the national headlines spoke of a spreading contagion, on the right-hand side, in bold and triumphant letters, the paper declared that the “INFLUENZA EPIDEMIC IS IN CONTROL.”[17] The article did not describe the firm grip that Enza had on Pensacola and the country, but rather portrayed the victorious effort of state and local officials. Lee McDonell of the Emergency Relief Committee, who made the initial statement, followed up this cautious optimism with a warning to the public, proclaiming that they “must not slacken their efforts for one moment if the situation is to continue good.”[18] This confused approach typifies the type of interplay that went on during the Pensacola flu epidemic, as local officials tried to keep the public calm in the face of profoundly unsettling, and mostly unpredictable, daily events. This paternalistic stance may have been misguided, but the Journal was nothing if not consistent in this approach.

Regardless of their moral stance, Pensacola officials had to concede that the public closures were far from over, with flu cases exploding in places like Philadelphia, where 4,013 cases reported on October 9^th alone.[19] Though official fatality figures were not made public regarding Pensacola flu deaths, one need only look to the obituaries to see the ghostly traces of the disease. Men and women in their mid-30’s, infants as young as 15 months, and aspiring twenty-somethings, dot these pages revealing the “terrible w,” as it would later be called, in its rawest form.[20] As October 11^th opened, the neighboring counties relayed that they, too, were overrun with flu. Santa Rosa, Walton, and Okaloosa all reported widespread cases, their obituaries overflowing with the same loss of youth.[21] In response, on October 12^th, Surgeon-General Blue sent two additional doctors from the U.S. Public Health Service to aid Dr. W.K. Sharp, who had taken over direction of the emergency relief campaign from Dr. Mossman sometime after his arrival on September 29^th.[22] Dr. Sharp maintained that two new doctors were coming to help, but that the epidemic was still under control despite conflicting evidence that showed a high prevailing death rate within the city.[23] Paternalism was still not saving lives, but it did seem to help some officials save face. As Dr. Sharp offered victorious rhetoric, the Red Cross quietly sent additional nurses to aid in the local relief effort.[24]

Beulah, Florida, announced the closure of its schools on October 12^th, confirming that even the rural areas surrounding Pensacola were experiencing the rapid spread of flu victims.[25] Quincy, Florida, announced over a thousand flu cases on October 13^th. Two of those cases were resident doctors, leaving only three doctors to tend the multitudes of newly infected citizens.[26] Their schools and public institutions were previously closed to avoid the spread of the disease, but that had not kept the bug from sneaking into town. These rural outbreaks highlighted the pathogen’s tendency to spread among impoverished communities with ease, even with social distancing measures in place. These country towns highlighted the need for a coordinated municipal effort to sterilize and sanitize public and private areas, a need that many small towns could not serve. Seeing this, the citizens of Pensacola realized their need for a coordinated sanitation effort, pushing for a year round cleaning service that kept the city clear of filth.[27] The impetus to cleanse the city was synonymous with a rising call for self-purification. The “Vox Populi” segment in the Pensacola News Journal implored its readers to consider the question: “does Christ heal today?” The flu was shaping Pensacola’s vision of the city’s future, both secularly and spiritually.[28]

Public gathering bans were extended on October 20^th, as emergency committee officials claimed that the flu virus was “checked but not suppressed.”[29] “Several hundred cases were still under treatment” at the time, and the fear of re-opening too quickly was a primary concern.[30] The forced, yet cautious, optimism of the committee was not supported by any factual information. Rather, it was the product of institutional rhetoric. The articles in the Journal that contain such optimism frequently contradict themselves. A pattern begins to emerge in the composition of these articles, and it is essentially the compliment sandwich: good news, bad news, then good news again. The articles conflict with one another from day to day, revealing the improvisational manner in which events and solutions unfolded. On October 12^th, the Journal had reported that no new doctors were needed, however on the 20^th, quiet calls for volunteers resumed.[31] Although city officials and relief committee members exuded confidence in their ability to “check” the disease, it was a hollow confidence.

On November 11^th, 1918, World War 1 came to an end. The emphatic headline, “PEACE,” plastered on the Journal’s front page made it appear as though the flu had never existed, that the war had not shifted to an entirely different front.[32] Pensacola has always been a military town with a strong naval presence, which helps explains why so much focus was placed upon the war effort in the Journal.  While most articles relating to the flu were juxtaposed with advertisements for honey and tar, calotabs, or laxatives, all certain to help an individual beat the flu, (and all making bold guarantees about the efficacy of their product), the front page was generally reserved for politics and military updates.[33] A possible reason for the lack of front page coverage concerning the flu is that, in truth, no one was close to understanding how to cure the disease. Some of the advertised medicinal remedies could have been helpful, but it is difficult to ascertain how effective sterilizing one’s nose with eucalypti was for illness prevention.[34] The surplus of medication ads throughout the Journal’s daily publications make clear how desperate the public was for a cure to the scourge, for an end to their ongoing fight. The Great War of Europe might have ended on the front page, but on the inner pages a dogged war-at-home was raging.

The influenza epidemic killed more Americans than any enemy force in WWI. The casualty list released on November 17^th placed the total deaths from war at 27,789.[35] In contrast, the deaths from flu that occurred between September 14^th and November 10^th totaled 82,306.[36] Thankfully, the worst of the flu season faded with the end of the war. The transition from curative remedies to restorative remedies, as observed in advertisement trends, signaled the shifting focus toward managing those in convalescence or those with lingering side-effects.[37] The feeling of weakness and lethargy stayed with individuals for days, weeks, or months, and so, an eager medical industry ramped up the production of anecdotal fix-alls. In March of 1919, it would be the medical industry that raised the warning bell for the oncoming flu season, their ads reminding concerned consumers that the grippe would return, and when it did, they would need to be ready.[38]

As 1918 ended and 1919 opened, a campaign to stamp out the flu with aggressive social distancing measures gave way to the lifting of seating bans;  a cautious return to normalcy for Pensacolans.[39] However, even with flu cases ebbing in the city, the continued advertisement of therapeutic remedies revealed a glimpse into a future wherein the flu would return annually to harvest human souls with little restraint. The lessons of 1918 were not lost on the people of Pensacola, and in January of 1919, they demanded that county commissioners formally address the sanitation issue within the city.[40] As the people of Pensacola had not let the tragedies of 1918 fall on deaf ears, neither had their fellow Americans. Sensing the oncoming storm at the end of July the public pressed congress to pass the Harding-Fess Bill, an “anti-flu” bill which would allot $5,000,000 to a committee charged with investigating causes of the flu and effective forms of therapy to treat the illness.[41] Despite these measures, the threat of the flu remained potent throughout 1919, conveyed through calls by the Board of Health for parents to brace themselves for the upcoming season and ads peddling drugstore products full of false security.[42] The “PEACE” of 1919 was a fading dream. The citizens of Pensacola could sense as much when the air began to cool, as if news of the invisible enemy were broadcast on the wind. Amidst shadows grown long with summer’s passing, a little bird named Enza flew, its mournful song penetrating every open window.

 

Bibliography

"Influenza Has Come to Town." The Pensacola Journal, September 29, 1918, 9.

"Will Close Services Tonight." The Pensacola Journal, September 29, 1918, 9.

"Pensacola Women Called Upon by Red Cross." The Pensacola Journal, September 29, 1918, 9.

"Uncle Sam's Advice to 'Flu' Victims." The Pensacola Journal, September 30, 1918, 1.

"Influenza in City Causes School Delay." The Pensacola Journal, September 30, 1918, 1.

"Closing Order Only Check for Influenza." The Pensacola Journal, October 5, 1918, 1.

"Headquarters Epidemic Relief to Open Today." The Pensacola Journal, October 5, 1918, 1.

"Influenza is Raging in All Parts of the U.S." The Pensacola Journal, October 10, 1918, 1.

"Influenza Epidemic is Under Control." The Pensacola Journal, October 10, 1918, 1.

"Obituary." The Pensacola Journal, October 10, 1918, 5.

"Obituary." The Pensacola Journal, October 11, 1918, 3.

"Two Doctors Ordered Here Fight 'Flu'." The Pensacola Journal, October 12, 1918, 1.

"Beulah." The Pensacola Journal, October 13, 1918, 7.

"Quincy is Gripped by Influenza: 1,000 Cases Reported." The Pensacola Journal, October 13, 1918, 2.

"Enforce Sanitary Laws." The Pensacola Journal, October 13, 1918, 4.

"Vox Populi." The Pensacola Journal, October 13, 1918, 4.

"Ban on Public Gatherings is to Continue." The Pensacola Journal, October 20, 1918, 1

"Peace." The Pensacola Journal, November 11, 1918, 1.

"Influenza - La Grippe." The Pensacola Journal, November 11, 1918, 4.

"Avoid Flu and Pneumonia by Sterilizing Nose." The Pensacola Journal, November 11, 1918, 4.

"The Great Bridge." The Pensacola Journal, November 20, 1918, 4.

"Weakness After Grippe or Influenza." The Pensacola Journal, November 20, 1918, 4.

"The Board of Health Claims the Spanish Influenza is Liable to Break Out Anew." The Pensacola Journal, March 16, 1919.

"Seating Ban is Lifted- Theaters Not Restricted." The Pensacola Journal, January 28, 1919, 8.

"Commissioners to Be Asked to Clean Up City." The Pensacola Journal, January 28, 1919, 8.

"Congress Urged to Pass Anti-Flu Bill." The Pensacola Journal, July 30, 1919, 1.

"Board of Health Warns Against Flu." The Pensacola Journal, October 9, 1919, 6.

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[1] "Influenza Has Come to Town." The Pensacola Journal, September 29, 1918, 9.

[2] "Influenza Has Come to Town." The Pensacola Journal, September 29, 1918, 9.

[3] "Will Close Services Tonight."  The Pensacola Journal, September 29, 1918, 9.

[4] "Pensacola Women Called Upon by Red Cross." The Pensacola Journal, September 29, 1918, 9.

[5] "Uncle Sam's Advice to 'Flu' Victims." The Pensacola Journal, September 30, 1918, 1.

[6] "Uncle Sam's Advice to 'Flu' Victims." The Pensacola Journal, September 30, 1918, 1.

[7] "Uncle Sam's Advice to 'Flu' Victims." The Pensacola Journal, September 30, 1918, 1.

[8] "Influenza in City Causes School Delay." The Pensacola Journal, September 30, 1918, 1.

[9] "Influenza in City Causes School Delay." The Pensacola Journal, September 30, 1918, 1.

[10]  "Influenza in City Causes School Delay." The Pensacola Journal, September 30, 1918, 1.

[11] "Closing Order Only Check for Influenza." The Pensacola Journal, October 5, 1918, 1.

[12] "Closing Order Only Check for Influenza." The Pensacola Journal, October 5, 1918, 1.

[13] "Closing Order Only Check for Influenza." The Pensacola Journal, October 5, 1918, 1.

[14] "Headquarters Epidemic Relief to Open Today." The Pensacola Journal, October 5, 1918,1.

[15] "Epidemic Halts Activities of Liberty Loan." The Pensacola Journal, October 5, 1918, 1.

[16] "Influenza is Raging in All Parts of the U.S." The Pensacola Journal, October 10, 1918, 1.

[17] "Influenza Epidemic is Under Control." The Pensacola Journal, October 10, 1918, 1.

[18] "Influenza Epidemic is Under Control." The Pensacola Journal, October 10, 1918, 1.

[19] "Influenza is Raging in All Parts of the U.S." The Pensacola Journal, October 10, 1918, 1.

[20] "Obituary." The Pensacola Journal, October 10, 1918, 5.

 

[21] "Obituary." The Pensacola Journal, October 11, 1918, 3.

[22] "Two Doctors Ordered Here Fight 'Flu'." The Pensacola Journal, October 12, 1918, 1.

[23] "Two Doctors Ordered Here Fight 'Flu'." The Pensacola Journal, October 12, 1918, 1.

[24] "Two Doctors Ordered Here Fight 'Flu'." The Pensacola Journal, October 12, 1918, 1.

[25] "Beulah." The Pensacola Journal, October 13, 1918, 7.

[26] "Quincy is Gripped by Influenza: 1,000 Cases Reported." The Pensacola Journal, October 13, 1918, 2.

[27] "Enforce Sanitary Laws." The Pensacola Journal, October 13, 1918, 4.

[28] "Vox Populi." The Pensacola Journal, October 13, 1918, 4.

[29] "Ban on Public Gatherings is to Continue." The Pensacola Journal, October 20, 1918, 1.

[30] "Ban on Public Gatherings is to Continue." The Pensacola Journal, October 20, 1918, 1

[31] "Ban on Public Gatherings is to Continue." The Pensacola Journal, October 20, 1918, 1

[32] "Peace." The Pensacola Journal, November 11, 1918, 1.

[33] "Influenza - La Grippe." The Pensacola Journal, November 11, 1918, 4.

[34] "Avoid Flu and Pneumonia by Sterilizing Nose." The Pensacola Journal, November 11, 1918, 4.

[35] "The Great Bridge." The Pensacola Journal, November 20, 1918, 4.

[36] "The Great Bridge." The Pensacola Journal, November 20, 1918, 4.

[37] "Weakness After Grippe or Influenza." The Pensacola Journal, November 20, 1918, 4.

[38] "The Board of Health Claims the Spanish Influenza is Liable to Break Out Anew." The Pensacola Journal, March 16, 1919.

[39] "Seating Ban is Lifted- Theaters Not Restricted." The Pensacola Journal, January 28, 1919, 8.

[40] "Commissioners to Be Asked to Clean Up City." The Pensacola Journal, January 28, 1919, 8.

[41] "Congress Urged to Pass Anti-Flu Bill." The Pensacola Journal, July 30, 1919, 1.

[42] "Board of Health Warns Against Flu." The Pensacola Journal, October 9, 1919, 6.