The Horrid October

Dr. Frank Terry Brooks faced a dilemma.  He had hoped for a quiet term as interim Health Officer for the Town of Greenwich, filling in until the appointed Health Officer finished his deployment at the front in France during the Great War of 1918. Greenwich was ablaze with patriotic fervor. Besides the young men who went to serve as soldiers, numerous young women received training as nurses to serve overseas as well.  His own wife was trained as a nurse, and rumor had it that he himself had sent her abroad to be educated, and that they had met up in Honolulu and gotten married to avoid his father’s opposition.

His dilemma had to do with disturbing news he had heard from the naval base in New London.  A ship had arrived there last summer carrying returning soldiers who were becoming ill with a series of symptoms never seen before. A sudden onset of chills, fever and pain led to coughing up blood, and lips and faces turning blue from
oxygen deprivation, often ending in death.  The naval hospital was soon filled, and civilian workers carried the disease into the community.  This was the beginning of Connecticut’s experience with the worldwide influenza epidemic of 1918. 

The problem was that the way the media handled this situation was to ignore it.  There was surprisingly little coverage of the epidemic in the newspapers of the time, certainly nothing like what we would do today.  Some say there was active government censorship, to preserve morale during a war.  Newspapers may have felt that reporting the situation might lead to public panic.  Ironically, this made things worse; everybody knew something terrible was happening, but the official silence added to the terror.

Dr. Brooks made his decision.  He sent a press release to the Greenwich Press, warning the town of the approaching epidemic, and describing how to care for patients.  A week later he stated in the paper that the first cases had appeared, and that people should cover their mouths when coughing to avoid spreading it.  He included a little jingle to help them remember:  “Bear in mind that influenza is as dangerous as the Hun / And can attack us all though it does not use a gun / Remember, should you cough or sneeze and so make others ill / Uncle Sam can call you ‘slacker’ and a ‘Friend of Kaiser Bill’”.  The third week he reported that the disease had descended upon the town in force.  Over a thousand cases had been reported, and the schools and theaters were closed.  Every empty space in Greenwich Hospital had been converted into an influenza ward, and those young women trained for nursing duty in France were put to work as medical aides.  Kitchens were set up to distribute food to families without breadwinners (there was no such thing as sick leave in those days; if you didn’t show up to work you didn’t get paid). Some people prey
Cincinatti soup kitchen.  Note face masks being worn. 
ed on peoples’ fears of the disease by peddling quack medicines like “Cream of Mustard” made in Norwalk and advertised in the Greenwich paper.  The epidemic peaked at the end of October.  One hundred twenty one persons died in Greenwich by the end of the year, and about ten times that number were incapacitated.  Today, this would be like five thousand people in town becoming severely ill all at once.

  
Like Dr. Brooks, the Greenwich Department of Health today strongly believes in sharing information with the public.  Dr. Brooks did not have the advantage of vaccines to protect against influenza, or antibiotics to cure secondary bacterial infections arising from it.  Today, the department that he headed has developed procedures for mass distribution of vaccines and antibiotics to protect the community against epidemics, both natural and deliberately caused.  It depends on support and volunteers from the community to do so.

Sources:

Acari 2007

Barry, 2004

CT Health Bulletin, April 1919

Greenwich Health Department Annual Report, 1919

The Greenwich Press: September 19, October 3, 17, 31, December 12, 1918

Greenwich News & Graphic, January 17, February 17, 1919

Tne New York Times, February 5, 1907
Winslow, 1920