The 1793 Yellow Fever Plague in Philadelphia

I've been reading John Harvey Powell's book, Bring Out Your Dead, which is a vivid account of the Yellow Fever Plague in Philadelphia in 1793. It makes the Covid-19 pandemic look pretty tame by comparison, but there are also fascinating parallels. Philadelphia was the nation's capital at that time, so this was a big deal. The disease was horrible. The patient  turned yellow, vomited putrid, black bile, had unrelenting diarrhea, suffered terribly before dying. Medical science at that time was pre-germ theory, and no one knew that mosquitoes were transmitting the disease. Doctors disagreed vehemently on how a patient should be treated. Some, like Benjamin Rush, urged aggressive purges of the stomach and extreme blood-letting. Others favored herbal teas and fresh air! Nothing worked very well and the death rate was high. Scores died every day and fear gripped the population. It was widely believed that to touch or even be near someone with the disease would cause you to get it, so even spouses and children were literally abandoned and left to die alone. Hundreds died in the streets. No one wanted to handle the corpses. African-Americans (both slaves and freemen) were believed by whites to be immune to the disease (they weren't), so they were ordered to dispose of corpses. It's an amazing story that seems to be largely forgotten in today's discussions. You hear a lot about the 1918 flu epidemic, but nothing about 1793. I got the book through the Internet Archive. It isn't a delightful read - it's pretty grim - but it is very interesting. The author, by the way, was a personal friend of Ellen's father, Frederick Tolles. That is how I came to be aware of this book.

The opening pages of Bring Out Your Dead

Old Sympathy cards

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What a great time to finally do some long-procrastinated tasks! For years I have meant to go through a box of sympathy cards that I received when Shirley died in 1998. I read them when I got them, of course, and had replied to many of them that had notes (and had written "reply sent," with a date, on the envelope), and at some point I had alphabetized them (by first letter of last name of sender) and had put them in a shoebox, not able to throw them out. And thus they have sat on a shelf for over 20 years! There are well over 100 cards altogether - maybe close to 200.  

I called John and asked if he was interested in them. I also wondered if maybe Katie would be interested - they would give her a fuller perspective on her grandmother. John said he was not particularly interested in generic cards, but he would be interested in those that said something specific about his mom. So I have gone through them all and selected about 30 which I think John would be interested in. And very possibly Katie also. I will make a packet of them for John and he can pass it on to Katie.

In the process of doing this, I realized I was creating sort of a case study in  "the art of sending a sympathy card."  What constitutes a "good" sympathy card, and what words are really meaningful, and have stood the test of time?  I would say that in general, the more time and care that goes into a card, the better. I find I am appreciating home-made cards, and cards that were inherently beautiful. I have now saved a couple of dozen card covers that I can use to make a new card by gluing the cover on to card stock and writing a personal note inside. Cards that are generic both in art and in expressions of sympathy (e.g., "Shirley was a wonderful person and she will be missed") are appreciated, but not memorable. In general, I would say that taking the time to make a card special, both visually, and in its message (a specific memory, a remembered trait, etc.) is to the good. 

Here are some examples:

This is what I consider a "generic" card. It is like hundreds of others. Over 80% of the cards I received fell into this category. Sometimes a very personal note, penned inside, redeemed the card. But in most cases, the  note was generic too. I don't want to give the impression that I didn't appreciate being remembered. Sending a generic card usually is better than nothing. But I think it is worth taking the time to make it a bit special.

 Here are some examples of what I liked visually:

This card was designed by a friend in the Guilford church. I like the simplicity of it.

I've always like stained glass

I like this floral scene

I am always attracted to close-ups of flowers, which I find to be amazing in their beauty

This could be a scene right on our own land

An artist friend created this water-color cover

I like the joy in this one

This was a hand-made card from a young woman in her twenties at the time of Shirley's death who had been a pre-teen in the church. I liked the way the word "voice" on the cover is then echoed in her note.

This was from someone who had been on an organ study tour in Europe with Shirley and me the previous summer, so we did not know her well, but she took the time to carefully print this note in a tiny, careful hand.

And here is the exception that proves the rule:

This card and note was very touching and authentic in its stark simplicity

A full and exciting weekend!

• Gosh, these past couple of days have been pretty full. Friday,  members of the Guilford church were sent an email which told us the name and something of the background of the candidate for the position of pastor of the church.  That same day, Katie and Savanna and Brendon all came up for supper on the deck and we had takeout from Panda North. It was a beautiful evening and that worked out really well. We had downloaded a menu, and we called in our order and then Ellen went down and picked it up. The portions seemed unusually generous. Ours were good for three meals for the two of us. While we were picking up the food, Brendon actually went down and had a swim in the West River.  Brrr!

Saturday, we had a meet and greet session on Zoom  to get a chance to interact with our new candidate at the church. We are being asked to keep her identity confidential for a few days until she has a chance to notify her own church that she is leaving. But we were very happy with our introduction to her, and then today, Sunday, she lead the service on live stream and a meeting was held after church, again by Zoom, to vote on her, and the vote was affirmative unanimously. And then at 2 o’clock there was a drive-by at the church where we got a chance to  say hello to her and her wife and they to us. So that was another special occasion with balloons and banners and so forth and lots of excitement. I’ll have more to say about all that after we no longer need to be confidential. Then after that, we drove up to Westminster, and had a short visit outside with John and Cynthia. We learned from John about an interview he had had with a candidate for a position on the faculty at Antioch. He liked the man very much, not least because they share an interest in the Indian philosopher Krishnamurti. Since we got home, we’ve been working on recording music for the Guilford service next Sunday, but we’ve been having trouble getting our voices to cooperate. 

Katie, Brendon and Savanna on the deck

 Congratulations to our new pastor!

If you go onto YouTube and put in a search for Guilford community church, and scroll down, you’ll see this video. We are on the front because we were leading  the opening hymn

Jiddu Krishnamurti

A little ride

Yesterday was such a beautiful spring day, we decided to take a little ride. I hadn’t had a morning-glory muffin for some time, so we called the bakery in Londonderry where they make them, to see if they were open. And they were! They only had muffins frozen, but that was OK because we freeze them anyway. So we had a lovely drive up Route 30 to Londonderry and in addition to the muffins we got a little treat: an almond horn,  a raspberry bar, and a decaf. We were very close to Lowell Lake, so we took them there to enjoy. There was a family there, but we didn’t get at all close to them. The lake was beautiful. And the treats were yummy! Coming back, we came through Grafton and Saxtons River, and since we were pretty close by, we decided to drive by Tom and Kathy’s place. It was really great to see them, and I talked with Tom from the car while Ellen got out and looked at Kathy’s beautiful garden and a new hen house Tom built. Tom has often dealt with sciatica, and he said that pre-natal yoga stretches on You-tube were helpful. So I’ll try that! It was a very enjoyable ride.

Lowell Lake

Kathy’s garden

Recording

Yesterday, we went to Andy and Robin Davis’s house to record two pieces for the  service coming up this Sunday. We sat outside in the backyard where Andy had set up a little recording studio. We sang Jesus shall reign where e’er the sun (Ellen on alto and me on melody) and also parts (alto/bass) on Marlborough, an early Ascension hymn in the shape-note tradition. Sunday is Ascension Sunday and also the day we will meet the new candidate for the position of pastor of the Guilford Church!

Robin got a photo:

At the Davis’ backyard 

Fresh asparagus

Saturday afternoon we took a drive down into Massachusetts in search of asparagus. We took Route 5 instead of the Interstate. A beautiful drive down past Greenfield to Deerfield. There we found a farm stand with a few bunches. Bingo! Our drive took us through historic Deerfield, which is charming. Super charming!

The farm stand and Deerfield scenes:

Pandemic birthday party

Today we participated in a birthday parade for the 90th birthday of Don Hazleton, a long-time Dummerston resident. Don and his family were our next-door neighbors back in the 1950s when I lived in the Dummerston parsonage. He still lives in the same house. A couple of fire engines, several trucks, and scores of cars participated in the parade. Ours was decorated with a big sign and balloons, as were many others. Don and members of his family were all sitting outside the house beside the road, so I guess somebody had tipped them off that this was going to happen. We all drove by the house honking and yelling our congratulations, went up a ways to turn  around and came back and did it all again. Lots of people were wearing their masks, including Don himself. At the age of 90, you can’t be too careful.

The birthday boy

A beautiful Spring morning 

Meeting folks coming back