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A century before the coronavirus, the 'Spanish Lady' was our unwelcome visitor

Berry Craig
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EDITOR'S NOTE: The coronavirus pandemic is inviting comparisons to the Spanish flu pandemic of 1918-1919, which killed millions worldwide. The experience of Mayfield, your editor-webmaster's hometown, was typical of Kentucky cities and towns. As of Saturday afternoon, 16 cases of coronavirus had been confirmed in the state--none in Mayfield--but no fatalities so far.

By BERRY CRAIG

AFT Local 1360

Mayfield Woolen Mills and the Merit Clothing Co. closed.

So did local schools, churches and pool rooms. Special cops were sworn in to arrest anybody spitting on a sidewalk.

The dreaded “Spanish Lady” was in town. “Graves County is in the throes of a severe influenza epidemic,” the Paducah Sun reported on Oct. 11, 1918. Almost 700 cases of Spanish flu had been tallied, according to Dr. John L. Dismukes, the county health officer.

Not surprisingly, the global coronavirus outbreak is inviting comparisons to the 1918-1919 flu pandemic which killed at least 50 million people worldwide. As many as 675,000 Americans perished, including more than 14,000 Kentuckians.

More people died of the flu than were killed in World War I, the bloodiest war in history to date.

The pandemic’s origins are unknown. People called it the “Spanish Flu” or the “Spanish Lady” because it supposedly started in Spain. Spaniards insisted the malady was the “French flu,” claiming the illness came from their northern neighbor.

Anyway, Dismukes warned that the flu was spreading markedly “in the county as well as in Mayfield proper.” He added that pneumonia—often a fatal consequence of the flu—was also increasing.

There was no medicine to cure the flu or pneumonia—no preventive flu or pneumonia shots either. Hence, quack cures abounded.

Supposedly, eating lots of onions absorbed flu “germs,” which the body expelled through defecation. A little turpentine on a sugar cube was another flu fighter of doubtful efficacy.

The makers of Grove’s Chill Tonic bought newspaper ads claiming their elixir “taken in larger doses than if prescribed for ordinary Grip[pe]” would vanquish the flu. It didn’t, of course.

Nonetheless, the company suggested, “A good plan is not to wait until you are sick, but PREVENT IT by taking GROVE’S TASTELESS chill TONIC in time.”     

Some people evidently figured laughter was the best medicine. The Oct. 22, 1918, Bourbon News in Paris published a poem titled “Everything’s ‘Flu’ Now!”

Got a little measly cold?

            Spanish Flu.

Do your bones feel stiff and sore?

            Spanish Flu.

Is it energy you lack?

Have you stepped upon a tack

Got a crick in your back?

            Spanish Flu.

If your throat feels kinder raw

            Spanish Flu.

If you have a swollen jaw

            Spanish Flu.

If your tooth is kinder achin’

If an illness you are fakin’

If your knees are a-shakin’

            Spanish Flu.

Is your liver on the bum?

            Spanish Flu.

Are you puddled up on rum?

            Spanish Flu.

Have you stumped one of your toes?

Have you just a bleeding nose?

Or no matter what your woes--

            Spanish Flu.     

On Dec. 31, the News got serious, editorializing that “from a public health standpoint,” the flu had aroused “public sentiment toward the work of disease prevention….Already, the health forces of the country, stirred as never before…have taken on new courage, and in light of the research work being done and the plans for intensive use of every known agency for prevention [the]…outlook for the future is agreeably bright.”

“Prevention” was indeed the byword. A prominent Paducah doctor urged that “every precaution must be taken to prevent contagion because there is danger of the disease becoming more virulent,” the Paducah News-Democrat explained on Oct. 19, 1918.

To ward off the flu, the physician “advised plenty of fresh air in the homes, especially in the sleeping rooms, cleanliness, baths every day, dieting, avoid crowds, and wear comfortable, protecting clothing.”

He stressed that “too much precaution…could not be taken.”

The News-Democrat claimed that rain on Oct. 18 “settled the dust and to some extent created a favorable condition.” But wet weather could be followed “more readily…by pneumonia.”

On Oct. 29, the Sun reported that “deaths from Spanish influenza show little let-up” in Mayfield and Graves County. As a result, “several prominent citizens have died of the disease” in the last two days; thus, “the closing rule is still being rigidly enforced.”

Hard statistics on the number of Graves County deaths from the flu or pneumonia are elusive. But Will Hendley’s Oct. 26, 1918, Mayfield Messenger obituary serves to humanize and memorialize all lost loved ones.

After suffering for “several days,” the 27-year-old widower succumbed to “pneumonia superinduced by influenza” on Oct. 26. Exactly three years before, he had started as a clerk in the Illinois Central Railroad freight office, the paper said.

Will’s wife, Lucy, had died in 1913 at age 21. Her spouse was survived by their seven-year-old son, William Clark Hendley. The deceased had “a bright future, being a valuable man in the railroad service,” according to the Messenger.

After graveside rites, Will was buried next to Lucy in Maplewood Cemetery near the Wooldridge Monuments. Their gray granite tombstone is silent about the “Spanish Lady,” whose unwelcome visits had terrorized their hometown and the world.