Fearing the Flu

You’d really have to be asleep at the wheel these days to not be aware of fears about the eventual certainty of a major flu pandemic. Like the coming of ‘The Big One’ earthquake that will rock California, or the rumblings of a volcano we know is gonna blow… predictions of a coming Killer Flu are not offered as a question of ‘IF’, but a matter of ‘WHEN’. Just yesterday the White House issued an Implementation Plan for our National Strategy for Pandemic Influenza.

So watcha gonna do about it? I figured reading a book about the last big flu pandemic was as good an idea as any. When author John Barry undertook to write about the 1918 Flu pandemic, the avian virus H5N1 wasn’t yet news. The 1997 outbreak that year in Hong Kong killed six of eighteen infected people. In addition to the accidental timeliness of his topic, Barry also realized that to tell the story of 1918, he’d have to provide some history on the overall state of medicine in the United States in the years leading up to it. And the thing is, it was pretty atrocious. But thanks to the leadership of a handful of medical pioneers such as William Henry Welch and the institutions they founded such at the Johns Hopkins Medical School, medicine in America was quickly catching up with Europe.And there was some other pretty significant underlying history involved in the 1918 flu pandemic as well, and that was World War I. Young healthy men were being trained as soldiers, in crowded camps, and being sent to fight in the trenches of Europe. And their gathering and movement provider carriers to deliver the influenza virus across the country and around the world.

This is a scary story. Somewhere between 50 – 100 million people lost their lives to the 1918 flu outbreak. And uncharacteristically, it was the young and healthy who most frequently suffered a fatal outcome, dying as a result of their own body’s overwhelming response to the virus. People woke up feeling fine, and dropped dead within hours. Death was fast and prevalent, information was unavailable or misleading, fear ruled.

History repeats itself, again and again. It’s often horrible. You can ignore it, or learn from it. Time will tell which we’ve done.

Where Victor Met Rose

dedera_bicek_wedding_sm.jpgNinety-five years ago, in 1910, seven of the eight individuals who would eventually become my Great Grandparents were living in Chicago. The eighth, arrived in 1911. I’m going to attempt to write about their lives and circumstances at the time, not from first-hand knowledge, but by blending information available and familiar to any genealogist; public records, family histories, and the recollections of their children and others who knew them. And the first couple that I will write about, is Victor and Rose.

Vitus (Victor) Dedera was the youngest of his father Adelbert Dedera’s thirteen children. Adelbert, a tailor, had come to America from Bohemia with his second wife, Marie, in 1881. They spent two years living in New York, working to save the money needed to continue their journey to Chicago, which they did in 1883. Adelbert had brought seven children with him from Bohemia, and another had been born while in New York. Victor was the last of three more who were born in Chicago (two other children had died in infancy). A great deal of what I know of the Dedera’s comes from a family history written by Victor’s older (by eleven years) brother Adelbert (Albert). In 1910, Victor was nineteen years old and one of four children still living with his parents at 2809 Central Park Avenue. According to the Census, he was a “machine hand” working in a “machine shop”.

map_28th_central_park.jpgLike Victor, Rose Bicek was also the youngest child in a large family. Her parents, Martin and Marie had immigrated from Bohemia in 1883, bringing their two oldest children Marie and James with them. Rose was the last of four more daughters who were all born in Chicago. Martin had worked as a day laborer and teamster, and in 1910 at age 58 he worked as a watchman in a coal yard. Three daughters still lived with Martin and Marie in the home at 2818 Clifton Park Avenue (later renamed to Drake Ave). Sister Emma, married to Alfred Sengstock, a Wells Fargo clerk, lived there with their two-month old daughter Adeline. Bessie and Rose also lived at home when the Census taker visited their home in June of 1910. Rose had turned 17 in January, and both Rose and Bessie worked as servers at a “WholesaleN”?

Other family members lived nearby. Victor’s older half-sister, Marie Jenicek lived with her husband and eight children down the street at 2831 Central Park Avenue. Their twelve year old son Albert, would one day marry Marie Novotny, who at the time was a nine-year old living at 2859 Central Park Avenue.

In addition to living near family, it jumps off of these census page how people chose to live among their own ethnic groups. For page after page, the place of birth of the individual’s parents is listed as ‘Aust Bohemian’. By the 1920 Census, following the breakup of the Austro-Hungarian Empire in World War One, the label would change to ‘Bohemia’ or ‘Czechoslovakia’.

But back to Victor and Rose. My grandmother, Marion, tells me that they enjoyed singing together. And that on walks in the neighborhood, Victor would visit with Rose on her families front porch, and join them in singing a few tunes. I haven’t yet found the exact date when they were married, but in the 1930 Census, Rose was reported as having married at age 20, which she turned in January of 1912. And grandma, the oldest of the five children they would have, was born in 1913.

Maybe they hadn’t even met yet in 1910. But the Census that year tells the story. My Great Grandfather Victor didn’t marry the girls next door. He found her a block over.

for further reading:

Czechs and Bohemians
Encyclopedia of Chicago

The Bohemian People of Chicago
by Josefa Humpal Zeman

The Great Wave

300px-Tsunami_by_hokusai_19th_century.jpgWhen I was a very young boy, my mother traveled to Japan to vacation with my father who was there on cruise with the Navy. And so, growing up, there was also a hint of that trip to Japan in our lives… a print of the Golden Pagoda in the living room, and intricately carved cork landscape in a glass case, and the futon we used for guests and sleepovers since before futons became cool. But one of the most lasting impressions of my parents taste for Japanese art, wasn’t one found hung on the wall, but was in a set of bookplates used widely in their large library. The bookplates showed a portion of the woodcut titled “In the Hollow of a Wave off the Coast at Kanagawa”, a well-known print more commonly called just, The Great Wave. It’s always been a very memorable and favorite image of mine.

So when I learned that The Great Wave was on exhibit at the Smithsonian’s Sackler Gallery in Washington, DC, I knew I had to go and see it. Last week, I took a day off of work to join my family and be local tourists during their week of Spring Break. The younger kids got their fill of the artwork of Hokusai pretty quickly, but Jennifer, Katie and I really enjoyed it. My desire to see the Great Wave brought us there, but there was much much more to see and enjoy. The exhibition runs through May 14, 2006 at the Sackler.

Dusty Does What He Must

(Via Think Progress.)

Opening Day: The Making of a Presidential Photo-Op: “

This afternoon, President Bush was on hand to throw out the first pitch in Cincinnati as the hometown Reds took on the visiting Chicago Cubs. Before the game, President Bush had an encounter with Cubs manager Dusty Baker that was described by Michael Fletcher of the Washington Post in the White House pool report:

He greeted Cubs manager Dusty Baker with a handshake. ‘This is the year, right?’ Bush said, in what some in the pool thought as sarcasm directed at the team’s perennial pennant futility.

‘Dusty Baker, good to know you,’ POTUS continued, turning to the cameras. He held the grip and grinned as the cameras snapped away. ‘Smile,’ POTUS encouraged, and Baker complied, saying: ‘I’ll do what I got to do.’

And with a little cajoling, Bush got the photo-op he wanted:

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Storm Shots

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A strong and fast-moving thunderstorm had just passed, bringing dramatic dark clouds, major lightning bolts, and a much needed downpour. As it started to let up, I ran out to snap some photos and was rewarded with a very cool rainbow. I just couldn’t get far enough away to capture the whole thing in my photos!

Then I went inside to drag the kids away from their video game for a minute, to come outside and take in the rainbow (and stand in an open field during an electrical storm) and give Mother Nature her due.

Billy Joel: Sharing the Tunes

Billy Joel in Washington DCTonight we caught Billy Joel in Concert in Washington DC. It’s at least the fourth time I’ve seen Bill in concert, which put him up with the Replacements, Elvis Costello, and The Clash, for performers I’ve seen live most often.

And Billy didn’t disappoint. We were seated in the front row, behind stage right, which gave a great view of the concert, probably better than I’ve ever enjoyed. It wasn’t just that we could see Billy and his band, but it was like seeing the concert from his band’s point of view. When he looked back at his drummer with a nod or a mouthed word, we saw it. And in most cases we knew which song was coming next, because we shared Billy’s view of the teleprompter which shared his lyrics with him.

There were a few other notable moments. We could see what was obviously a hearing impaired section of the arena, where a rotation of signers worked vigorously to sign every song for their section. And an unexpected moment on the playlist came when Billy put on a guitar and brought a long-serving roadie on stage to sing “Highway to Hell”.

To my wife’s frustration, I couldn’t just enjoy the show without using the gadget on my hip to share the love. So I snapped a lot of crappy quality Treo photos, and dialed up various friends to share some live Billy with them.

Here’s who go what:

Neal – Allentown

Kenny – Goodnight Saigon
(he knows why)

Mike – Movin’ Out

Doug – Captain Jack

Marne – I Don’t Know Why I Go to Extremes
(would have been ‘Pressure’, but I was in line for a drink)

Jenny – It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me

Kevin (in Tokyo and by request) – You May Be Right

Rick – sorry man, you should have gotten ‘Big Shot’, but it was one of the few moments that I put my phone down and just listened. But I still dedicated it to you.

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