Amelia's Memoir of the Pandemic of 1918

Amelia, at age 101, is chronologically the oldest person who has ever attended one of my memoir-writing workshops. She was born in 1909 and following is her memory of the devastating flu epidemic of 1918:

Amelia was nine years old in 1918. She was the middle sister of the three girls in her family. They lived in a rambling Victorian house on a quiet street in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Her mother was a fairly well-known vocalist and was in demand as an entertainer for local parties and church functions. Amelia and her sisters sang in a trio and appeared at such events also. Her father, Alfred, was the vice president of a local bank.

The American people were celebrating the end of the Great War that year, but there was another pending disaster that few recognized when it first appeared--the influenza pandemic of 1918. Doctors were baffled by the increasing number of patients being affected by this mysterious illness. In the end, roughly 25 percent of the American population became ill. Doctors thought it might be cholera or typhus at first. The exact number of deaths, both worldwide and in America, are unknown, because so many victims were misdiagnosed and there was no definitive test to prove the patient had this exact flu virus. Estimates of worldwide deaths range from 20 million to more than 100 million.

In peaceful Cedar Rapids, many of the townsfolk were stricken. The only member of Amelia's family to contract the illness was Alfred, her father. Although meetings and other social gatherings were canceled to avoid spreading of the illness, his position as an employee of the bank brought him into daily contact with many people. Since so many of the bank employees had taken ill, Alfred went into work, although he was feeling unwell, in order to serve the bank's customers.

Amelia remembers she and her sisters having giggling fits because their dad came home and was saying "strange and funny things." He was actually hallucinating from a high fever, but, of course, the little girls just thought his behavior was for their amusement. Their mother insisted on putting him to bed and, thankfully, was able to nurse him back to health.

Amelia only has a childhood vision of this trying moment of history. It is not in any history books and, until the H1N1 flue scare last year, was rarely mentioned. At the time, Amelia's family had no idea how close they had come to becoming one of the pandamic's sad statistics.

Christine's High-Flying Memory

Christine's High Flying Memory
Christine was raised in a small town in northern Wisconsin where her father was the president of the town bank. She was an adventurous girl, a self-confessed tomboy and always interested in active sports. In 1935, the summer she was fifteen years old, her parents sent her to a two-week summer camp. Memories of these weeks include water sports and canoeing, hiking and nightly campfires. There was even an outdoor showing of a silent film projected onto the sideof a big, white barn.

One steamy July day, the girls at the camp were taken to a summer festival in the nearest town. There were bands playing, balloons, games and plenty of good food, but what intrigued Christine, the adventuress, was a barnstorming pilot in a fragile-looking plane who was offering airplane rides for 50 cents.

The other girls drew back in fright, having been warned by their parents that flying was a dangerous game and that their life insurance policies would not pay the claim if the insured was such a fool as to go up in an airplane. The 50 cent price was a major portion of Christine's budget for the week. She did have the money, however, and didn't hesitate very long before handing it over to the barnstormer.

Up they went in his little plane, flying over farms and fields, revealing a patchwork of squares like her grandmother's quilts. The panoramic view quite took Christine's breath away. She fell in love with flying that day.

She waited and hoped for a chance to get her own pilot's license, but World War II broke out a few years later and private planes for pleasure did not exist anymore. All aircraft, spare parts and rubber tires were commandeered for the war effort. After the war, she never had an opportunity to fulfill her piloting dream.

Christine loved to fly all during her long life and found it to be her favorite way to travel. There is still a tiny kernel of regret for not pursuing her airborne dreams. She loved revisiting the memory of her first High Flying Day.

Focus on the 50s and 60s

Focusing on the Mid-Century
And
Denny’s Life Memories

I recently did a Lifestories World Events Workshop that focused on the Civil Rights era of the 50s and 60s. While we had a good group discussion, our Illinois experience with this issue was limited. This group of 10 were all very young back then, but we all remembered being shocked and appalled at the level of vitriolic hatred expressed toward the black population as we watched on the evening news as innocent children our own age tried to attend school. Our group was all white and, at the time, we were individually blissfully unaware of the struggle for equal rights in the south. Thank goodness a strong group of leaders, most specifically Martin Luther King Jr., came along to raise our consciousness about this issue.

Denny’s story of the 60s was much more light-hearted. He recalled his first teaching assignment, right out of college. He was an English teacher in a Junior High School. He says he clearly remembers each of these, his first students, and could “call the roll” even today.

Two things were at the forefront of his students’ minds in the mid-60s. The boys were obsessed with the space race and many proclaimed their passion for becoming astronauts. They could name each of the astronauts and knew which flight they had gone on and what the outcome was.

The girls, on the other hand, had a less scientific obsession. Mainly—The Beatles. Denny claims they would use their cursive writing practice time by writing “John, Paul, George and Ringo” with appropriate flourishes over and over. The principal once walked unannounced into the classroom and Denny responded when asked what the students were up to, “Oh, they’re practicing their penmanship, sir.”

He finished his story by noting, “These students are all in their 50s now…seems impossible.”