30 March 2020

History Snoopin': The Jackson County epidemic of 1868


The Jackson County epidemic of 1868


by Bill Miller for the Mail Tribune
Monday, March 30th 2020


Though not a pandemic, smallpox was the scourge of 19th century America. Few diseases caused such fear and panic when it began to race through a community.

Even though Englishman Edward Jenner had shown the effectiveness of the smallpox vaccine over 70 years before the Jackson County outbreak in the winter of 1868, very few in Southern Oregon had been vaccinated.

The sudden epidemic killed over 20 men, women and children, and at least three times that number were infected but recovered.

Four hospitals were hastily set up outside the city limits and doctors assigned to each. There, those infected could safely be treated without fear of infecting others.

By New Year’s Day the town was in a panic.

Sister Mary Francis, one of the brave Roman Catholic nuns who volunteered to nurse and give comfort to those who were suffering, told a horrifying account of an infected 3-year-old little girl whose mother had just died.

“I have in my arms her youngest child,” she wrote. “Her face is as black as my dress, and the little sufferer, in trying to find a cool place, has rubbed her face on my cape and left pieces of her decaying flesh on it. Oh! This dreadful disease! No one except an eyewitness can form any idea of it.”
Two weeks later, the child died and was buried with her mother.

Jacksonville’s Board of Trustees passed stringent ordinances to combat the spread of the disease and established a fine of up to $100 for any violation.

“Each and every person residing within the town limits who has never been vaccinated or, in the opinion of a competent physician, is liable to an attack of smallpox, shall submit to vaccination.”
The town marshal was ordered to record the name of every person in town, and a statement determining whether the person had been vaccinated or had previously survived a smallpox attack.
Physicians were to be immediately notified and were required to vaccinate anyone on the list who was “unvaccinated.” The doctor would receive 50 cents for each vaccination, but would be fined up to $100 if they failed to change clothing after each vaccination.

Anyone exposed to the disease was banned in public places; including stores, bars, hotels, “private houses of amusement,” public gatherings, or even walking down the street.

Funeral processions of victims through town were not allowed, and mourners at nighttime-only burials were restricted to family. County residents who died of any infectious disease were completely barred from burial in the town cemetery on the hill.

On every home or building where infected persons were living, a visible yellow flag was required outside, as was a large sign on the door reading “Smallpox.”

The requirements were so strict that the local newspaper had to apologize for the lack of local news within its pages.

“Our paper is not interesting and we know it. No local items, but we can’t help it. The town is like the grave, but it is not our fault. Yellow flags are to be seen on every side, and if this issue partakes of the ghastly character of its surroundings, we are not to blame.”

At the end of February, it was finally over and the newspaper celebrated.

“We are rejoiced to say that smallpox has entirely disappeared from this place. Every house in which cases have occurred has been disinfected and the quarantine flags removed. We hope it may stay away, but if it should appear again, our people will be apt to recognize it.”

Writer Bill Miller is the author of five books, including “History Snoopin’,” a collection of his previous history columns and stories. Reach him at newsmiller@live.com.


16 March 2020

History Snoopin': Oregon WASP Pilot Marie Ethel Chiler Sharon - Service and Sacrifice for Country


Service and sacrifice for country




by Bill Miller for the Mail Tribune

March 16, 2020



The B-25 began to rattle and shudder violently against extremely hard winds, gusting at 45 mph.



Lt. Hinton Daniel and WASP pilot Marie Sharon frantically fought to maintain altitude and control. Suddenly, the nose wheel door began to twist with a screeching metallic sound. The hinges gave way in the wind and the door flew away, slamming into the right side motor. Sixty-five miles south of Omaha, Nebraska, there was smoke, the engine failed, and the bomber lunged into a nose-first dive. It shattered in pieces as it hit the ground and buried itself deep into a farmer’s field.



Born Marie Cihler in Forsyth, Montana, April 21, 1917, Marie was a Women’s Airforce Service Pilot, a WASP, one of 1,074 women who flew military airplanes within the United States for the U.S. Army Air Corps during WWII.



This was one of Marie’s navigational training flights in the bomber. She was working toward a Class IV Army pilot rating, a rating allowing her to fly two-engine medium bombers and heavy transports. Only 59 of the WASP women would ever earn that rating.



It had been a nomadic life for Marie. By 1922 the family had moved 300 miles west to Helena, Montana, and within a few years, they were on the move again, this time to Vancouver, Washington, just across the Columbia River from Portland. Here, on Sept. 5, 1930, there was a shocking tragedy.




“While his little daughter fought in vain to prevent him from taking his life,” the newspaper reported, “John Cihler, [Marie’s father] swallowed poison at his home last night and died a short time later. His act followed a quarrel with his wife.” That “little daughter” was 13-year old Marie.



Marie, her mother, and older sister moved to Portland, where Marie graduated from Jefferson High School. Before the war, she worked as a stenographer and cashier for a retail laundry.



She had once again followed her mother and was living in Bend when she signed up for the WASP program. Before she began her training at Avenger Field, in Sweetwater, Texas, Feb. 13, 1943, Marie married Horace Sharon. Shortly after the wedding, he joined the Navy and left for the war.



Marie was the 16th of 38 WASP pilots who died during the Second World War. She rests near her father in Wilhelm’s Memorial Mausoleum in Portland. Lt. Hinton, her flight instructor, lies in Augusta, Georgia’s Westover Memorial Park.



WASP Marie Ethel Chiler Sharon 43-W-4
(21 April 1917 – 10 April 1944)
RIP



Writer Bill Miller is the author of five books, including “History Snoopin’,” a collection of his previous history columns and stories. Reach him at newsmiller@live.com.

10 March 2020

History Snoopin': The Pandemic of the Spanish Lady


The pandemic of the Spanish Lady


by Bill Miller for the Mail Tribune

Tuesday, March 9, 2020




They called the pandemic of 1918 the attack of the Spanish Lady, an influenza outbreak that raced from human to human and continent to continent with such incredible speed that many people feared they were watching the end of the world — and rightly so.





Not since the Black Plague had so many people around the world died in such a short period of time. Over 2,000 victims in Oregon, over a half-million in the U.S., and perhaps 30 to 100 million people died worldwide.



Ironically, Spanish Influenza didn’t start in Spain, but rather in America’s heartland — Kansas.



One March morning, a Fort Riley Army private skipped breakfast and reported to sickbay, complaining of a sore throat, headache and fever. By noon, 100 soldiers with the same symptoms joined him. In just four days, patients at the post hospital overflowed into tents
, and doctors were treating over 500 men.




Then, soldiers began to die.



Disease spreading within groups of men living in close quarters was common and didn’t worry public health officials, and so, when civilians began to get sick, no one noticed and no one sounded the alarm. Besides, Americans were getting used to soldiers dying.



For nearly a year, WWI had transformed high school students into “doughboys,” marching off to France with rifles on their shoulders, unknowingly carrying the most deadly weapon of all, the flu.



Rogue Valley residents read newspapers and watched the death toll set new records. In just one day, Boston recorded 202 victims, then
Philadelphia followed with 289, then New York City surpassed them all with 851 in a single day.



Medford physician Elias Porter, while studying at Boston’s Massachusetts General Hospital, wrote home about the “horror” he saw each day. “Patients have been ill just a few hours,” he said, “and within a few hours more they are dead.”



The plague had stayed away from the Northwest, and everyone was sure there was nothing to fear. They ignored the Mail Tribune editorial that warned, “The epidemic is sweeping westward rapidly. Its presence here is only a question of a few days.”




In September 1918, an army troop train arrived from Boston at Ft. Lewis, Washington. Within a week, the invisible virus hitchhiked by rail and highway down the coast and into the Rogue Valley.



The Spanish Lady now began knocking on valley doors. Over 200 confirmed cases in less than a week, and at least 12 of those died.



Washington state resident Bill Bezold was hoping to beat the snows in the Siskiyou Pass. With wife, Edna, two children and everything they owned stuffed into their car, the family was moving to Arizona.



They stopped in Ashland to eat. Bill began to sweat and needed medical attention. By the time they reached the hospital, Edna and an infant son showed the same symptoms.

All three died within hours and were buried in Ashland’s Mountain View Cemetery. Only their orphaned 4-year-old son miraculously survived and returned to his grandmother’s Washington home.



There never was an accurate count of the valley dead, but newspaper reports indicate that in just a three-month period, somewhere between 200 and 400 valley residents died from the influenza virus.




The “Lady” disappeared almost as quickly as she arrived, but the swift and painful deaths she left and the panic she provoked are still a part of our fading memory.



And every few years we have to wonder. Could it ever happen again?



Writer Bill Miller is the author of five books, including “History Snoopin’,” a collection of his previous history columns and stories. Reach him at newsmiller@live.com.




History Snoopin': The Girls of Summer

The Girls of Summer by Bill Miller for the Mail Tribune Monday, June 8th 2020 It simply couldn’t be true. The Girls...