264 sick and thirteen dead in 48-hours.
by Dale Cox |
| The African American dormitory at Florida Industrial School for Boys, where 196 of 198 students fell ill within 48-hours. |
The flu hit with a vengeance, and
the best efforts of doctors, nurses, and public health officials were quickly
overwhelmed. Reports prepared by the latter indicate that 371 Floridians lost
their lives to the flu during a twelve-day period that ended on October 17,
1918. And these deaths were just the beginning.
Jacksonville officials quarantined
their entire city and urged citizens to wear masks. St. Augustine closed its schools, theaters and soda
fountains while banning public gatherings and even church services. The month
was remembered for years there as “churchless October.”
 |
| Children wearing masks during the 1918 Spanish Influenza pandemic. |
Of the 267 students at the school,
264 fell ill within 48 hours. The assistant superintendent of the North or “colored” campus became sick, as did his
entire family. All three of the school's engineers succumbed to the illness, along
with all of the students that helped them run the school’s power, water, and
sewage systems. With no one to run the pumps, the school’s water dried up. With no water, the toilets and sinks stopped
working. The small hospital, a wooden building measuring only 16 by 16 feet, had
no water, power, or sanitation.
The African American North or “colored”
campus (as it was called in that day) was overcrowded before the Spanish flu.
Within three days, 196 of the 198 students and eight of the ten employees there
fell ill. The matron of the North campus was the first person at the school to
die. Her body lay unburied for 24 hours because there was no one to dig a
grave. On the white or South campus, meanwhile, 68 of the 69 students
became sick along with all but one or two of the employees.
The situation deteriorated so
quickly that “horror” is the only word to describe it:
 |
| Nurses helping sick soldiers during the 1918 pandemic. The Spanish Influenza killed more American soldiers than died from enemy fire in World War I. |
Dr. George W. Klock, who wrote the above, was an
official with the U.S. Public Health Service. He arrived at the school as
influenza was raging and conditions were at their worst:
The
dinner of the well colored boys the day I was there being hoecake and bacon
grease thickened with flour. The dinner of the white boys being rice and bacon
grease gravy. One boy said he was flogged for refusing to cook peas full of
worms; that meat sent to the boys was kept until spoiled and then fed them and
they all were sick.[ii]
Klock did not note in his report
that the citizens of Marianna were also suffering from the flu. Only one of
the city’s doctors remained on his feet and was so overwhelmed that he simply
could not care for the hundreds of patients pleading for his help. Most
citizens had to care for themselves as deaths multiplied across Jackson County. Graves dating from the fall of
1918 dot the landscape at cemeteries throughout the area. Many of the dead were
children.
Eleven students and two employees
died at the Florida Industrial School for Boys during the Spanish Influenza pandemic. Although the University of South
Florida, citing a Miami
Herald report, claimed that all were
African American, school records indicate that both white and black students
were among the deceased:
Wilbur Smith, 1918; Influenza; African
American; Student
Willie Adkins; 1918; Influenza; African
American; Student
Lloyd Dutton; 1918; Influenza; White; Student
Hilton Finley, 1918; Influenza; White; Student
Puner Warner, 1918; Influenza; White; Student
Ralph Whidden, 1918, Influenza, White, Student
Unknown, 1918, Influenza, Race unknown,
Student
Unknown, 1918, Influenza, Race
unknown, Student
Unknown, 1918, Influenza, Race unknown,
Student
Unknown, 1918, Influenza, Race unknown,
Student
Unknown, 1918, Influenza, Race
unknown, Student
Unknown, 1918, Influenza, African
American, Female Employee
Unknown, 1918, Influenza, White,
Male Employee
 |
| The "Boot Hill Cemetery" on the Dozier School campus was shown on topographic maps as early as 1948. 25% of the people buried there died of the Spanish flu in one week. |
Governor Sidney Catts ordered an investigation of conditions. A
group of three physicians made this inquiry and issued a report in January 1919.
On the defensive, the doctors scalded Dr. Klock for his failure to investigate better the
causes of the horrific conditions he witnessed:
…Did Dr. Klock say that the superintendent was not a well man?
That the assistant superintendent, in charge of the colored department, with
all his family were stricken? Did he say that one of the matrons died and
remained for hours without attention because the few not in bed had to give aid
to the living? Did he say that the attending physician, the only doctor on his
feet in Marianna and surrounding community had ten times as much to do as any
human being could perform? Did he say that the school was without water for
lack of help to run the pump, causing the sewers to choke? Did he say that
sixty-eight out of sixty-nine white boys and one hundred and ninety-eight
colored boys were down practically at one time? Did he say that the dining
room…with cement floor, was temporarily converted into a hospital by a
physician, to relieve the congestion in their dormitory?... Did he say that the
good people of Marianna had been acting as nurses of this institution until the
needs of their own families and surroundings took them away?[iii]
Spanish Influenza affected the
region for decades to come. Families struggled without their lost loved ones,
while children still in the womb later suffered much higher rates of learning
and physical disabilities than babies born just one year later.
Physicians and scientists study
the pandemic of 1918 to this day, searching for lessons to help them rates of
death and infection from new worldwide outbreaks.
