We've been here before: The Spanish flu struck Columbia Falls in 1918. The story is eerily similar to today
Helen Carroll made a trip to Libby when she was 16 years old.
“It would be hard to name another young girl in the city who was more popular and more loved by all than was Helen,” the Columbian newspaper remarked. “Her musical talent was fast bringing her forward to the best ranks of violinists and no local program seemed complete that did not have her name.”
But Carroll made that trip to Libby. And traveling at that time was a dangerous proposition. Not because of the long, winding roads. But because in the next town over, death lurked.
The Spanish flu.
By all accounts, Carroll caught the flu while in Libby. When she got home to Columbia Falls — it was a Sunday — she fell ill. But by Monday morning she was sitting up and feeling better.
By Monday night pneumonia set in.
Tuesday morning, she was dead. The first person to die of Spanish flu in Columbia Falls, Oct. 15, 1918.
A story in that same issue said, “Influenza makes an appearance here, no epidemic but public is urged to take every precaution.”
Still, immediate action was taken by city public health officer Dr. John T. Robinson. Public meetings were postponed. Political campaigns were canceled. Picture shows were shut down.
“Dr. Robinson advises there is no need for alarm, but rather urges everyone to keep calm and not become panicky, as the disease is not dangerous and easily handled with proper care,” the story said.
Schools initially, were kept open.
Dr. Robinson urged folks with symptoms to go to bed at once and be kept warm, but with plenty of fresh air.
“Proper food should be given, of which pure milk is the best...”
Keep in mind, there were no antibiotics or vaccines at the time, the Centers for Disease Control noted in a history of the pandemic.
But by the next week the headlines in the Columbian were bigger and more severe.
The schools were closed and all other public gatherings as well. Many people were getting sick.
Like today’s novel coronavirus of 2020, keeping away from infected people was paramount, subsequent stories noted.
“Avoid crowds as much as possible,” the story at the time said. “Sneeze and cough into a cheesecloth and burn.”
Unlike coronavirus, which tends to kill the old and infirm, the Spanish flu struck the young with equal vengeance as the old.
In fact, one story surmised, folks older than 40 may have been a bit more immune, since they had previously been exposed to a German influenza years prior.
It’s estimated that about 500 million people, or one-third of the world’s population, became infected with Spanish flu. The number of deaths was estimated to be at least 50 million worldwide with about 675,000 occurring in the United States, according to the Centers for Disease Control.
Locally, Dr. Robinson preached social distancing, though it wasn’t the catchphrase that it is today.
“Do not converse or approach within three feet of anyone who has the disease,” he warned people on Nov 8.
People should also not enter houses that had the disease. Those homes were marked with a blue tag.
Like today, those that had become ill and survived were urged to help others.
“Very soon there will be some who have recovered from this influenza of ours and will have regained their strength. Let them fill their souls with kindness and do all they can to nurse and comfort those who have not yet recovered...” Robinson said.
By Nov. 14 the flu was abating in the city, but had spread to rural districts.
More people had died and officials were adamant that schools not be reopened, even though cases had subsided in the city.
The newspaper often announced the health of the living. For example, Dan Saurey was said to be recovering. The Saurey family was one of the first settlers here.
The death announcements were often blunt.
“Mike Smith, 36, unmarried and homesteader near Nyack died at the Columbian hotel Friday evening with pneumonia,” a story noted.
Smith stumbled into town delirious from the disease, which had similar symptoms to coronavirus, about a week earlier.
World War I had ended and the ensuing celebration, however, likely resulted in more infections, stories noted.
They called the celebration, “reckless.”
“Deaths occur daily in Whitefish and Kalispell.”
By then the flu had killed more people in the U.S. than died in World War I.
It wasn’t until Dec. 19 that the ban on public gatherings was lifted in Columbia Fall.
Schools weren’t reopened until the new year. People still continued to die. Mike Magnon — a well-known wood dealer was killed.
There was Mrs. Chas Wise, whose daughter got the flu and died and then she caught it from her child and died, too.
“She was a very pleasant young woman, a tender mother and a loving wife...”
The entire town of Coram caught the illness in one fell swoop, a short story explained.
“The John Elliott, Crossthwaite and Campbell families were all sick at one time,” a Jan. 16, 1919 story noted.