I had a little bird

Who’s name was Enza.

I opened up the window

And In-flu-enza

The rhyme was sung by children during a year when Halloween was truly scary.  Ninety years ago today, quarantines forced most municipalities in the United State to cancel their normal Halloween activities.  1918 was the year that the Spanish Influenza pandemic swept across the world, carried by soldiers who fought on the battlefields of Europe.  The pandemic reached its peak in the United States in October that year.  Despite widespread quarantines, the flu claimed nearly 200,000 American lives that month alone.

The first American case of the Spanish flu was reported at Fort Riley, Kansas, on March 11, 1918.  By the end of the day, over 100 soldiers at the fort were complaining of sore throats, headaches, and fever.  Within a week, the fort had 522 cases of the flu.  Forty-six soldiers would die in Ft. Riley before the end of spring.

Emergency Influenza Hospital, Ft. Riley, KS

It is no mere coincidence that the flu occurred during World War I.  Although the war did not directly cause the outbreak, its spread was undoubtedly hastened by the close quarters of the troops, their rapid deployment across the globe, and the unsanitary conditions of the battlefield.  Few countries were spared its devastation.  More than 25 million people worldwide died from the flu between March, 1918 and June, 1920, including at least 675,000 Americans.  The number of influenza deaths was far greater than the total battle casualties of World War I.   

Approximately 20% of the world’s population contracted the flu.  It did not discriminate.  Both President Woodrow Wilson and British Prime Minister Lloyd George were struck by it.  Franklin Roosevelt caught it, two years before he was crippled by either polio, or more likely Guillain Barre paralysis.  John Reed, the American Communist activist who was portrayed by Warren Beatty in the movie “Reds”, died from the flu.  So did Louis Botha, the first Prime Minister of South Africa, and Phoebe Hearst, the matron of the Hearst Publishing empire. 

One of the Spanish Flu victims was a beautiful young woman named Velma Norton, pictured below in a 1914 photograph.  Velma is on the left.  Next to Velma is her cousin, Daisy, then Velma’s sister, Emma.  Daisy’s brother Hamilton is the man on the right.  They are four close friends in their late teens enjoying a Sunday afternoon outing, picking flowers and shooting at targets along the train tracks in Eastern Kentucky.  Not long after this photo was taken, Velma’s sister, Emma, would marry a young teacher, and begin raising a family that would eventually include my mother.  Velma would meet a far different fate as one of millions whose lives were cut short by one of the cruelest killers the world has known.  Velma, the great-aunt I never knew, did not live past the scary Halloween of 1918.