We began this series in the early days of the pandemic. It’s been a long time since the twelfth chapter that likened what we have been going through, or went through, and yesterday.

An odd thing sometimes happens to the historical researcher.  Names and addresses become more than words and numbers on a printed page.  Something empathetic happens sometimes.  I like to say that ghosts live in those boxes of letters and journals or in the stories on the pages of microfilmed newspapers that make yesterday immediate.

Maybe it’s because the address is a place the researcher has driven past many times without a thought.  But now, knowing something that happened at that address produces a peculiar personal tie to the place. These are some of the Jefferson City Sites of Sadness during the great Spanish Flu expidemic of 1918.

1022 West McCarty

1029 West Main

1303 Monroe Street

708 East Miller Street

804 Broadway

Particularly, in this case, is this note in the newspaper from December 10, 1918:

Mrs. Fred Landwehr died at her home east of the city.

The house was east of the city in 1918. It’s well within the city in 2022.  I used to drive past this house almost every time I went to my home on Landwehr Hills Road where we lived for twenty years.  Mrs. Landwehr was one of the victims of the Spanish Influenza pandemic.  One of her descendants is a former Mayor of my town.

In most instances, the people who now live at the addresses above where part of that terrible history happened in 1918-19 have no knowledge of the small but enormously tragic event that enveloped their home so many years ago. They don’t know that the living room of their home might have held the coffin of a loved one who died in that pandemic—funerals often were held in homes in those pre-funeral home days.

We don’t know if such information would be particularly meaningful to the way the current inhabitants live their lives.  But these houses remain memorials to the citizens whose name mean little or nothing to most of us but who were part of the fear and the sadness that was there in that awful historic time.

And in the past three-plus years some modern addresses have been added that were the homes of victims of the worst pandemic since the Spanish Flu of 1918-19.

History is more immediate and more valuable than you might think if you know you are in a place where life and death happened or if you know as you drive past what circumstance of life was played out behind those windows.