PANDEMIC IN CLINTON COUNTY
By Lou Bernard
By now, I’m sure you know all about Covid-19. Because of this virus that’s spreading the nation, we’re all basically under a lockdown. People are asked to stay home as much as they can, avoid going out and meeting other people, and keep clean. Currently the Ross Library is temporarily closed, and the school district is closed, as well. You’re heard all this already, unless you’re some sort of hermit who had no contact with the outside world, in which case you’re not much of a risk for Coronavirus anyway.
It interests me, the way this has all played out. Often in times of crisis, we’re urged to take action. During World War II, people were asked to ration and contribute. After September 11, people went out to donate blood and help. Now? The most patriotic, helpful thing you can do is nothing. Stay home. Watch TV. That’s the most heroic thing you can do right now. There are a million introverts out there saying,”My time to shine.”
But I can provide a little encouragement through my column, which I send by e-mail anyway. That risks a totally different type of virus, so let me tell you about the closest thing we really have to compare Coronavirus to, locally. Let me fill you in on the Spanish Flu epidemic of 1918.
It began through the railroad stations. Just like today, it pretty much started with travel. These days, the main points of entry for the virus seem to be planes and cruise ships. Back then, it was the trains. The Castanea Railroad Station was essentially ground zero for it—That’s where a lot of people brought the Spanish Flu into the community. Many years ago, I went through the obits in the early days of the flu, and I noticed something—In the first weeks of the Spanish Flu, everyone who died from it either was a railroad employee, or just recently back from travel.
The Clinton County Times has always been my favorite newspaper to follow these stories in. The Times had a feel for the bizarre, running the strangest stories as front-page news. But even the Clinton County Times took the Spanish Flu seriously, uncharacteristically running lists of the deceased. Under the headline “Many Deaths In County,” they ran a list of the names and locations of the people who had passed away. At the bottom, they mentioned,”Space will not permit a more detailed account.” It was sort of a mass-grave version of the obituaries.
The epidemic grew during the fall of 1918, and seems to have peaked in Clinton County around late October and early November. The earliest recoveries seem to have begun in Castanea, where it all began. Instead of the names of the dead, the Times began to print the names of the survivors, and most of the list, at first, was composed of Castanea citizens.
The Times took particular pleasure in running the names of recovered children. For example: “Alta, the little daughter of Mr. and Mrs. George Conklin, Twyla, Bobby, and Albert, the three little children of Mr. and Mrs. Clyde Poorman, Mary Elizabeth, the little daughter of Mr. and Mrs. John Poorman, who have been on the sick list are all able to be out again.”
The state of Pennsylvania issued a statement to not overdo it, initially. Seems people were beginning to recover, and immediately racing out to go back to work or whatever. Which spread the flu, and sent them right back to bed. The state warned people to not do that. They said to take their time and stay home, so professional recovery advice hasn’t changed all that much.
At one point in mid-November, the county coroner L.L. Liken dropped by the Times office, updating them on his experience in Bitumen, up in Chapman Township. He’d been the only doctor covering over six hundred cases of the flu, racing house to house and sleeping in short bursts. Finally with the arrival of another doctor after two weeks, Liken began to see things ease up.
Amusingly, he also delivered over a dozen babies during that time, and only had five deaths. So during an epidemic, Bitumen’s population actually rose.
So everyone, stay positive. Don’t give up. We’ll get through this, all of us, here in Clinton County. Right now, I’m gonna heroically do my civic duty and go read a book.
