Grandma's Boxes: Letters from 1918 by Roberta McReynolds

Page Three of Grandma's Boxes

The first letter was dated six days after my father’s birth and Grandma wrote, "A few lines to ease your mind. Baby and I are both just fine. He is changing favorably all the time, has all he can eat and plenty to spare. He slept with me all night last night and we never had to call for help once."

The year 1918 was memorable for other reasons; it was the year of the Spanish Influenza pandemic. So on top of the other handicaps this newborn was facing, the flu was another threat. Grandma’s letter continued, "I suppose you’ll hear all kinds of reports about influenza so I’ll tell you what I know. The doctor claims it is real and spread from that dance last week. The hills are full. I don’t know how many cases and something like 15 in town, 2 new ones this morning. They say they are quarantined and trying to keep it down. I am so glad you got out of town when you did. The people who did my washing are quarantined. They have my union suit and kimono there yet. I can get along without any laundry for a few days but Baby needs some done. I will buy more new goods before I’ll run any risk sending his clothes out."

Grandma then requests that her two daughters hunt up their doll cradle and some doll clothes for the baby to use when he comes home. His first bed, however, was a shoe box lined with straw to hold in body warmth. It was the closet thing to an incubator at the time. Grandfather’s handkerchiefs were transformed into tiny baby diapers.

Grandfather wrote back that it had been snowing and all the children have colds and are sneezing. The youngest of the four children "said he would like to see baby doll" while the older boy is quoted as saying "he is glad it is a brother, that he has all the sisters he wants."

"It’s too bad the youngsters have colds at this time especially," Grandma promptly writes back, "Watch them carefully on account of pneumonia and influenza. Guess there are more cases but haven’t heard any serious results, but a hospital is not noted for dispensing news. Mrs. L. got a brand new girl Friday morning and the old women and kids began flocking in to see the new baby and of course wanted to see the tiny one. I felt that if they wanted half the female population of Joseph breathing over their baby it was their business but didn’t want it over mine and told the nurse so. Just because they are nice people didn’t say but what they might be taking ‘flu’ for it is a respectable disease. I am sure anxious to get out of this burg before it comes to me. I sure don’t aim to stand around on the street waiting to see it when I get loose."

The new parents correspond about the crops at the ranch (cucumber, apples and corn), the weather (windy storms took a heavy toll on the apples), and the one-room school house with a census of 13 students and one teacher. The teacher had been boarding with them, but after the premature delivery he moved in with one of the other local families. Grandfather hired a woman to assist with the children at home and a ranch hand to help with the chores. It’s evident that Grandma’s absence had left a big hole in the normal routines at home.

One of Grandma’s roommates shipped a dozen two-quart jars to the ranch to be filled with Grandfather’s cider at 40 cents per gallon, including shipping on a stagecoach in an oil-case.

Grandfather’s last letter to the hospital expressed his concern as he warns, "Now look out for the influenza. Don’t use clothes that there is a chance of exposure, buy what ever you need new instead. If you have cashed your check and have not enough money, tell them to send their bill to me. As far as I know at this time when you get ready to come home, it will be better to first get a car there. Tell the doctor to get a good driver for you and let me know about when you expect to come."

He also adds that the younger son was swinging on his arm as he wrote, wanting to know if his baby brother was fine.

The final letter was from Grandma, "Just a few lines this morning. Baby and I are both fine. The doctor says we can go home Wednesday if it is a nice day, so if you get this letter instead of us coming you may know it was stormy. The people at the telephone office have ‘flu’ and I guess you cannot get a message thru."

I carefully folded the last letter and slipped it back in the envelope. It felt like I had picked up a snow globe and peered into a life that had been frozen in time.

Grandma ended up telling me a lot about herself after all. She was a strong, practical and resourceful woman. She got my father through infancy against all odds. His childhood illnesses included pneumonia twice (once a four months of age), measles, mumps, whooping cough and chicken pox. I really owe my own existence to the fact the Grandma made certain Dad survived into adulthood.

The highest compliment Dad ever gave me was the day he told me that I reminded him of his mother. I guess all those weeks at the cabin year after year paid off. Maybe Grandma was ‘talking’ to me all along, more than I realized.

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