Ahnapee & George Washington: The Connection

April 30 marks the 225th  anniversary of George Washington's election as first president of the United States. There was a time when each school classroom had a copy Peale's or Stuart's famous paintings of Washington, or perhaps a photograph or painting of Abraham Lincoln. Washington is one of the four presidents carved into Mt. Rushmore and he is remembered in the names of cities, townships, schools and streets. Wolf River/Ahnapee had a number of residents whose first and middle names reflected the famous man, however that is not where the connection ends.

As a young man in 1758, Washington was elected to Virginia's House of Burgesses. There he connected with Thomas Jefferson, Patrick Henry, Peyton Randolph and George Mason - men with whom he would be forever linked. At the time, the illustrious company didn't bask in the luster of American history.

It is said that as a young legislator Washington was not a leader offering innovative legislation. When he introduced his first bill in Burgesses, he had neither the experience nor the clout to push through a piece of legislation. Today one would think, "Why didn't it happen?" Maybe Washington's "betters" felt they'd teach the young upstart a thing or two. As it was, pigs were running at loose on the streets of Williamsburg. They were fouling the water and yet Washington's legislation to keep them off the streets failed on the first try.

A little over 100 years later, the new village of Ahnapee adopted Ordinance 4 without a hitch. What was it that Washington couldn't initially effect when it happened on July 12, 1873 at the first meeting of the Village of Ahnapee? Keeping pigs off the street because of the "fouling," which one would think would have been a no-brainer a century earlier.

At the time of Ahnapee's first village meeting, there were 100 registered voters. Druggist William N. Perry was unanimously elected president. Manufacturer Joseph Anderegg was elected clerk, and in the first historical business conducted three days later, Michael McDonald was elected marshal. It wasn't crime that took the Marshal McDonald's time initially. It was Ordinance 4 - keeping pigs off the streets of the village. A month after his election, McDonald declared war on swine! How successful McDonald was is anyone's guess, but the issue was addressed. A year later the Board passed an ordinance providing for slaughterhouses when it prohibited the dangerous and unhealthy practice of slaughtering animals at home. Ordinance 4 probably dried up a food source. No doubt the pigs at large made for pork chops and ham for those who couldn't tell one pig from another.

Cattle were running at large at the same time, however that was apparently regarded as a lessor issue. Three years later, the Record commented on "the nerve" of the village board in passing an ordinance restricting cattle from running on the street. The editorial comment was obviously in jest and McDonald was heard to say if people didn't take care of their own cows, they'd find them milked.

Whether there were ordinances or not, people had to use village streets to get their cows to a grazing area that is now Perry Field. In an interview with this blogger, historian Millie Rabas remembered driving cows from her grandparents' Kirchman Hotel* down Clark St. to the field. In the 1940s and early 1950s, there were times that Karl Lineau, Clarence Toebe and Adolph Feld, whose farms were within the south city limits, got early morning calls from the police letting them know their cows were downtown. At least they kept their pigs at home. Ironically Feld's future father-in-law was on the board that effected the ordinances.


Note: Virginia's House of Burgesses was the first representative government in "The Colonies." Its first meeting was at Jamestown on July 30, 1619.
* The Kirchman Hotel is now called the Steelhead Saloon and is at the northeast corner of 4th and Clark Streets. It was built just after the Civil War by the Bastars.

Sources: An-An-api-sebe: Where is the River?; Ahnapee Record, Algoma Record Herald; How a Bill Becomes a Law, Williamsburg, Virginia, and an interview with Millie Kirchman Rabas.

Algoma's Stockyard, Packing Houses and Butcher Shops

A little over 100 years ago several railroad companies purchased land in Chicago to build a stockyard that would become the hub of the country. What became known as the Union Stockyard brought packinghouses. Then came factories that dealt with by-products. Living conditions are a separate story.

Today few would think Algoma ever had a stockyard. It did. Whether one could say Algoma had packinghouses is a matter of perspective, but there were butcher shops that were true packinghouses, and Algoma had by-products that were dealt with elsewhere. However, that’s where any similarity to Chicago ends.

In 1892 - five years before Ahnapee was renamed Algoma - the railroad came to both Algoma and Kewaunee, and, as in Chicago, it was the railroad that brought the stockyard. Algoma’s stockyard originally stood at the foot of Mill Street near the Veneer and Seating Company on the south side of the Ahnapee River. Yards were adjacent to Ahnapee and Western railroad tracks on the north side of the stock pens.  .

During June 1916, Mill Street residents living in the vicinity of the stockyard entered a grievance against the railroad, understandable because the yards were in a residential district. One can imagine the odors on a summer day and, recognizing the complaint as valid, the railroad moved the yard further west to just beyond Plumbers Woodwork. In some ways the railroad's cooperation was a surprise, but the new, more substantial yard was covered, a fact appreciated by shippers during the winter. Fifty years later, long after the stockyards were gone, older city residents referred to the area around Haney Avenue as “Pig Alley,” reflecting memories of an earlier time.

During the first 50 years of its existence, Ahnapee/Algoma had a remarkable number of butcher shops, or packinghouses, for the size of the population. Meat was shipped to city markets on railroad cars that, by then, were refrigerated. Animals were originally slaughtered in town, but as the place grew, slaughtering moved outside the city to places such as the Damas farm just north of St. Paul’s Cemetery.* William Damas was working with Frank Groessl at the time and then opened another market at what is approximately 521 4^th St. today. Sanborn fire maps indicate ice houses next to the butcher shops. In a day before refrigeration, the ice houses were a necessary step in preserving product. Algoma’s packinghouses had by-products – such as bones, hides and blood.

Bones created another income source when they were shipped to Green Bay Soap Products and other such concerns in Milwaukee for use in the manufacture of soap. There is even some humor in those bones. Peter Kashik made the Record in 1909 when he installed a grinder for use in pulverizing bones for chicken feed. "Chicken feed" also suggested the product's income level. Captain Herman Schuenemann, the Christmas tree ship captain who went down on the Rouse Simmons in November 1912, was born in Ahnapee. Ironically the Reindeer frequently made Algoma to pick up the bones to bound for Milwaukee. One wonders how many nine year old boys washed their faces because of the Reindeer, "Captain Santa" Schuenemann and thoughts of Christmas?

C.R. Bacon gave the city something to laugh about when he opened his 1883 butcher in Melchior and Reinhart’s basement. The firm was a shoe manufactory, known as Reinhart’s Shoes for the next 100 years. Bacon wasn’t the only business in that basement. He shared the quarters with a marble cutting company! Baloney Bill Krueger was another with an unusual business. After World War 1, Baloney Bill ran an ice cream parlor in connection with his Mill Street meat market.

Bacon’s wasn’t the only shop in an odd place. Frank Feuerstein’s 1859 shop was partly remodeled into the present Stebbins Hotel. When Frank Slaby remodeled the hotel to what it is today, he sold the west wing of his building, in which Feuerstein conducted his shop, to F. Schroeder who moved it to another section of the city for conversion as a dwelling. John Graf used the Fax building on the 1^st and Steele site that is now Von Stiehl’s warehouse as his packinghouse. Rudolph Pauly ensured speedy service using the delivery bike from his store on the site that is now Walters. J.J. Storzbach followed him. Ed Westfahl’s meat market was on the southeast corner of 4^th and Clark in 1900. He was succeeded by his son-in-law Joe Horak. Horak became Kewaunee County sheriff. Horak’s wife Helen was his partner in the store and followed him as sheriff.                                                                                                                                       

F.J. Jakubovsky’s meat market burned in the fire consuming the building on the southwest corner of 2^nd and Steele. There were many other butchers such as Charles Braemer, R. Haack, Wenzel Taicher, Henry and Ursala Zimmermann and Henry Baumann, but it is the Kashik family whose name is synonymous with meat markets in Algoma. The company was in business over a period of 70 years when Foxy and Kutz, the last of the Kashik line, closed the last of Algoma meat markets. With the closing went the aroma of smoked bacon and ham, wieners and all kinds of sausage, wonderful things mostly unknown to a younger generation.

Below is a section from the 1894 Sanborn Fire Map of Ahnapee, Wisconsin. It marks the Frank Groessl/Graessl meat market, which was the site of Kashik's for so many years. In looking at the map for what is approximately 218 Steele Street and the site of Harmann Studios today, Groessl's market is noted as being just west of a barbershop. Directly behind the shop is the kettle used for scalding pigs and so on. Behind the kettle is the ice house. The smoke house is in the back right corner of the property, Block 10, Lot 16, Youngs and Steele Plat of the, now, City of Algoma.

* In June 1874 John Kittinger approached the Ahnapee village board saying the dangerous, unhealthy methods of slaughtering animals at home had to be stopped, and an ordinance providing for slaughterhouses was passed.

Sources: An-An-api-sebe: Where is the River?, c. 2001; Commercial History of Algoma, Wisconsin, Vols. 1 & 2, c. 2006 & 2012, including graphics; Ahnapee Record, Algoma Record, Algoma Record Herald; blogger's postcard collection.

Ahnapee & Algoma: Drug Stores & Patent Medicines



Lydia E. Pinkham Co. was a patent medicine business at the turn of 1900. Advertised as medicines sure to take care of “women’s complaints,” Pinkham's kindly face appeared on labels and advertising indicated she would answer any letter to offer advice to the suffering. Those who wrote to her after May 1883 had no way of knowing she was dead and buried in Lynn, Massachusetts.

 

By 1900 patent advertising provided the largest sources of revenue for newspapers across the country. Clauses in lucrative advertising contracts cancelled those contracts if one negative word about the patent industry appeared. Then Colliers began running articles reporting fraudulent practices. Some medicines were harmless, some were harmful. Some contained alcohol, some contained narcotics. Some were addicting. In 1900 there was no regulation or oversight. Mrs. Pinkham was touting help for women and Isham’s Spring Water was said to cure rheumatism. Pink pills were there for paralysis, and ointments took care of cancer. Or, so the advertising said.

Since drug stores sold liquor for medicinal purposes, Temperance leaders could always drink for their health while they shook their fingers at those who had a non-medicinal glass of whiskey. Boedecker’s Drug Store, on the southeast corner of 4^th and Steele, announced on June 29, 1917 that it would no longer sell “intoxicating liquors of any kind.” Bulk liquor sales in drug stores was legal at the time and druggists considered such sales as a necessary part of pharmacy. The Boedecker brothers apparently had a change of thought and went on to advertise that their Rexall Drug Store “shall be Algoma’s Greatest Drug Store in fact as well as name.” On February 27, 1920 Algoma Record Herald pointed out whiskey consumption while reporting that none of the city druggists had made application for a whiskey seller’s permit. Physicians prescribing medicinal whiskey also needed permits. By then Prohibition was in force. Sales of more than a pint of liquor to any one person within a ten day period was prohibited, and the National Association of Retail Druggists advised its members against taking out the special license due to liability.

Drug stores were a big part of Ahnapee’s business community. The druggists prepared tinctures, ointments and other medications. Shelves were full of patent medicines advertised in the Ahnapee Record and, after 1897, the Algoma Record. Boedecker’s was convenient. Dr. Minahan’s* medical office was upstairs. Maybe more important was Boedecker’s “clock.” It was a type of slot machine into which one inserted a coin to get a trinket. The lucky rang the clock more than once to get an additional jackpot.

Across Steele to the north was a hot spot for drugstores beginning with James Dudley’s in 1864 and John McDonald a year later. Dudley even made fresh baking soda in his store. The building that is now Crow’s Nest was the site – though a different structure - of Dudley’s Standard Drug Store. Then came Vojta Kwapil and Jim Fluck. William Perry’s drug store was on the other side of the alley. Christian Roberts operated City Drug Store and Joseph Knipfer constructed his store on the northeast corner of 4^th and Steele in 1878. Mike Shiner was advertising in 1879, also on the corner of 4^th and Steele. Bates Drug Store opened in 1881 on the east side of what is now Clay on Steele, and by 1890 Silas Doyen had moved into the Baumann building, now the site of Algoma Sew 'n Vac. Doyen sold to Wilbur and Spiegelberg, however Spiegelberg soon went to 4^th and Steele, working in the space that also included jeweler Edward Koenig. Doyen took Merton McDonald as a partner and kept practicing. Johnson purchased Boedecker’s. Pharmacists and drug stores kept coming and going. 

 

During President Teddy Roosevelt’s administration, the 59^th Congress passed legislation that can only be called monumental. When significant steps were taken toward the labeling, inspection and regulation that became the Pure Food and Drug Act, patent medicines and their promises began going by the wayside, although not entirely. Over 100 years later, misleading statements continue to dot commercials, however legislation changed things in Algoma as it did all over the country.

Today's Fletcher's Castoria, Bayer Aspirin, Phillips Milk of Magnesia and Anacin - products that can be found all over -  had their beginnings in the patent medicines. Angostura bitters started out as something for stomach aches but nobody thinks of that when they are enjoying a cocktail. Neither do those who enjoy gin and tonic. Tonic was also once regarded as medicinal. As for those who look forward to an icy cold 7-Up, Cocoa Cola, Dr. Pepper or Pepsi Cola, they too were once marketed for their medicinal qualities.

And, Lydia Pinkham? She is still around.

Note: The Four Clips, a long-time barbershop quartet favorite of Wisconsin audiences, included a song about Lydia Pinkham in their vast repertoire. Years ago, lyrics of that catchy number prompted this blogger to learn about Pinkham and what "she" had to offer. Having done significant research on Ahnapee/Algoma drug stores and their owners, and Prohibition, all kinds of patent medicines surfaced. It was Bully Pulpit, (a must read) about Theodore Roosevelt and William Howard Taft that compelled me to put patent medicines, advertising, commerce and legislation into another perspective.

*Dr. John Minahan was the brother of Dr.  William  Minahan who went down on the Titanic. Their brother Hugh operated a store in Casco and the three brothers together owned a maple syrup camp near Scarboro.

Sources:  Ahnapee Record, Algoma Record, An-An-api-sebe: Where is the River? c.2001; Commercial History of Algoma, WI, Vols. 1 & 2, c. 2006 & 2012; Bully Pulpit by Doris Kearns Goodwin, c. 2013; and Wikipedia. Find further information on patent medicines simply by Googling.

 

 

Ahnapee & Algoma: A Sports Minded Community

Algoma High School’s girls’ basketball team stands out once again. The girls are a powerhouse in a long line of such athletic prowess. Algoma, and Ahnapee before it, is a small place proving that big things indeed come in small packages.

The community’s interest in sports goes back to its earliest days. German immigrants organized a sports and musically minded Turn Version Society in early summer 1866. When Wenzel Wenniger built his Wilhelmshoeh on Wenniger Heights – the hill on the north side of the river – he included both a bowling alley featuring iron balls and a

shooting gallery. Wenniger assumed management of the place being called Ahnepee* Gardens as early as 1871 and enhanced it. (Right)

The “baseball nine” was organized about 1870 when the city was playing teams from Clay Banks, Forestville and Sturgeon Bay. That team included pitcher William Henry, Mike McDonald, M.T. Parker and Mike Mullen. They played at Wenniger’s and they played on the clearing on the Knipfer farm just below the Lake Street hill near the south city limits. They had winning seasons.

Abisha Perry was Ahnapee’s finest baseball player and athlete of the day. Fifty years later George Wing was writing memoirs saying that the likes of Perry had still to be seen. The strong Perry had no trouble slugging a ball. His long legs ate up the bases and his lungs were so powerful he had no trouble running. DeWayne Stebbins played too, probably prompting a few cuss words from his team. Steb usually played left field and when the ball came his way, he was known to take his time getting it. If the fellows were playing in the empty space now occupied by the Dug-Out and the ball went over Mrs. Loval’s First Street barn and Steb found it, he was one to stop and discuss the politics of the day with her, rather than throwing the ball.

German immigrant George Sachtleben was a shoemaker who arrived in the 1850s. In May 1883, he contributed to a winning season with new blocks for the nines' shoes and boots. Ahnapee beat Kewaunee 28-9 in the very next game. While some were impressed, the Record felt Sachtleben’s blocks didn’t really help "because the Kewaunee boys didn’t practice much."

Baseball continued and there were leagues. The Spaulding Co. promised to give the Lakeshore League a silk banner with the teams’ names on it if it would adopt its ball. There was money in baseball even then. Baseball provided a social life for the villagers who were joined by the band crowding on to the Goodrich steamers to go to such places as Kewaunee, Sturgeon Bay or even Marinette. Looking at the lakeshore today, it is hard to imagine a steamer carrying 700-900 people stopping at most of the ports.

It wasn’t only baseball. Ahnapee even had a prizefighter. Johnny Mulligan had his headquarters and boxing school in Ahnepee in 1869. Less than 10 years later the Daily News announced the billiard table in Charley Anderegg’s Steele Street barbershop. Whether “right here in River City” it contributed to the corruption of the city’s boys as Meredith Wilson’s Music Man would suggest nearly 100 years later is anyone’s guess, but 5 or 6 years later the village thought it had to do something about the boys bathing in the river behind the brewery. They were there where they could be seen, not wearing a stitch of clothing.

March 1885 saw a public roller rink open on the second floor of Swaty’s Store in the triangle of Lot 6, across from what is now Von Stiehl Winery. Afternoon admissions cost 5 cents and skates rented for 10. Evening prices were a nickel more. John McDonald’s 3^rd Street rink was 50 x 115’ with a gallery large enough to hold 250-300 spectators when it opened in June. Two roller rinks at the same time in Ahnapee? There was a third about which little is known. It stood on Steele in a frame building replaced by the 1906 Busch building, which stands today.

Molle’s Bike Shop was another popular spot. Today the site of Community Improvement Association, Molle’s was the home of Ahnapee’s champion bicycle rider. Bicycling was the rage that roller skating was, however there were races as distant as Marinette and sometimes beyond. Hotly contested races assured spectators plenty of entertainment. When women eventually began cycling, some regarded it as scandalous to see women on such contraptions, chasing after men. Besides that, it was downright dangerous.

During the winter, young and old enjoyed ice skating on the river above the bridge. With its location on Lake Michigan, Ahnapee was a place for surf bathing. Women’s bathing costumes didn’t allow swimming as we know it today. Men were not so encumbered and were able to show their skills. And physiques.

Basketball and football were associated with the high school but that was a few years after graduating its first classes which were predominantly women. High school teams by then included baseball and Algoma went on to win and to lose. Records were made to be broken. Trophies were won. 1972 brought Title 9 which gave rise to sports' equality within the schools. A mere 10 years later the Algoma girls rode into town on a fire truck, followed by a parade of cars in a din of honking horns. Coach Bob Hafemann and the girls had just won the state high school girls' basketball tournament. It didn't stop with that first state appearance.

When that early “baseball nine” was playing, the team was made up of adult men. Civil War vets and a newspaper editor.  Abisha Perry and DeWayne Stebbins were younger. George Wing probably played too if health allowed. If he didn't, he was a supporter. Algoma today has programs for kindergarteners and residents of all ages. On a cold winter day, one can walk the track at the Dug-Out thinking of the baseball once played on the site, knowing that spring will come. Eventually.

*Ahnepee became Ahnapee in 1873 in somewhat of a "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" kind of thing as the name was consistently spelled incorrectly on maps and so on.

Sources: An-An-api-sebe: Where is the River?, c. 2001; Ahnapee Record, Algoma Record; picture postcards from the blogger's collection.

Kewaunee in Flames: The Fire of 1898

It was Kewaunee Lifesaving Station's hand fire engine holding the flames in check, thus saving both the Bank of Kewaunee building and the Erichsen Hotel before the fire department's big pumper could get to that end of the fire. The fire swept the area from Erichsen's barn on Main Street to the Hranach home on Kilbourn and the Jadin residence on Milwaukee Street. L.C. Fensel, Charles Metzner, J.J. Stangel, Wenzel Seyk, George Grimmer, Joseph Paulu, Charles Pavlik and more suffered losses as the fire moved through the business district.  And when a fire engine summoned from Green Bay pulled in at 5:00 A.M. on a special train, it was too late. Though the bank building and hotel weren't burned to the ground, loss was significant. Much of Kewaunee's business district was destroyed in that devastating fire in May 1898. Kewaunee's fire house is the subject of this postcard mailed in 1919.

The morning after the fire, the almost non-believing, bleary-eyed Kewaunee folk looked through still rising smoke at a loss that was beginning to set in. Occasional fragments of brick walls or a chimney still standing here and there made up the business district that had been so vibrant two days earlier. Streets were littered with debris from homes and stores; furnishings and goods either destroyed by blazing embers or perhaps destroyed by water. Fifteen substantial commercial buildings and at least that many barns went up in flames. Wooden sheds and outhouses were just added kindling. “Kewaunee of yesterday is no more,” was a comment echoed by men and women, who, in a few tragic hours, had seen their lives go up in flames.

By noon the next day some merchants had set up temporary stands and were talking of a new, more substantial and fireproof Kewaunee, one that would rise from the ashes. Looking back at the conflagration, city officials and leading citizens swore that never again would frame barns, sheds and lean-tos be permitted in the downtown area.

Kewaunee was a bustling town for several weeks after the big fire. Insurance representatives came into town to witness the losses, hear claims and make payments. Trains enabled visits  from newspaper reporters and those who could only be called gawkers from Green Bay, Algoma and Two Rivers. After all, such a fire was really something to see. Two Rivers Mayor Peter Gagnon headed a delegation  which offered any aid necessary in the emergency.

There were huge loses to buildings, fixtures, stock and so on. George Wing and John Wattawa lost their law library valued at $4,000, $1,000 of which was covered by insurance. Such a library was nearly impossible to rebuild. There were minor loses, too. John Rooney lost a sewing machine and $23 in cash. He didn't have insurance. Dr. O.H. Martin’s fixtures and books were ruined to the extent of $400 and John Erichsen collected $9 for damage to paint and windows on the Hotel Erichsen. Erichsen was the first to begin rebuilding and refurbishing.

Kewaunee's loss amounted to $68,875 of which $49,968.41was covered by insurance. Neighboring newspapers were commenting a month later that most insured parties had received their money and that building in Kewaunee would be brisk. Immediately following the fire, the Enterprise estimated loses would run between 80 and 90 thousand. Today Kewaunee's average home costs more than the fire of 1898. That puts inflation into perspective.

When everything was settled and rebuilding had started, the town resumed a normal way of life. There were rumors. The best was that the Volunteer Fire Department had, in the excitement, thrown the nozzle of the fire hose into the river and tried to hook the suction end into the pumper, but that was denied. The City Council passed an ordinance mandating brick construction in specific areas, and all others in downtown Kewaunee were required to be brick veneered or iron sheathed, with fireproof roofs. Fire hydrants were installed when the city laid a 4” pipe down the center of Milwaukee Street from the river to Ellis Street to take the place of the fire hose.

Ironically, it was just a few months earlier - February - when the Advocate noted the editors had received an invitation to travel to Kewaunee to witness the test of that city's new fire steamer. Green Bay Fire Chief William Kennedy was to lead a parade through the streets of Kewaunee during the auspicious event. Three bands were going to be playing at the affair which would conclude with a grand ball celebrating the reorganization of the fire department.

 Enterprise Editor Voshardt said, “While the fire will prove to be a serious blow to our fair city for sometime, who knows that it might turn out to be a blessing in disguise. Finer and more substantial buildings will take the place of those that were destroyed.”

The above postcard was mailed in 1906. In her brief message, the correspondent described the fire pumper, however whether or not it was the marvel of 1898 is not clear. Following the fire, though Kewaunee's Council decided against frame buildings in the downtown area, the Ellis Street postcard, mailed in 1912, suggests otherwise.

Sources: All postcards are from the blogger's collection. Information comes from the , Algoma Record, Kewaunee Enterprise and Sturgeon Bay Advocate.

Kewaunee County and the Spanish Flu: 1918

Flu makes headlines. TV newscasts and newspapers are rife with stories each fall. Notices of flu and pneumonia shots appear on nearly every drug store marquee in town while even grocery stores offer shot clinics as public health agencies and clinics run PSAs. That all comes after the CDC weighs in on what strain of flu is probable, and the manufacturers make a shot or spray best addressing what is coming. Flu is dreaded. In 1918 it was dreadful. It was called a pandemic, which to this day remains one of the greatest natural disasters the world has ever seen.

Sources of the 1918 flu were not isolated, and it was the war eventually called World War l that spread the flu all across the planet. Throughout the world, uncommon and distinctive measures were being taken to deal with the influenza and stem its spread. Leading the U.S., Wisconsin was the only state adopting public health measures that the public actually accepted, perhaps because its citizens were somewhat educated. By then, Wisconsin had been working for about 40 years to improve public health and fight infectious diseases.

In December of 1918, Wisconsin’s State Board of Health said the flu will “forever be remembered as the most disastrous calamity that has ever been visited on Wisconsin or any of the other states.” Between September and December, influenza and pneumonia killed 8,459 Wisconsin residents and debilitated over 100 thousand residents. To put that in another perspective, more Wisconsinites died during 6 months of flu than in World War l, Korea and Vietnam combined. And yet Wisconsin was lucky with a death rate of 2.9 per thousand. Nationally the rate stood at 4.39 per thousand. At a time when the newspapers carried so much war news, there was little room for anything else but the overwhelming numbers of obituaries. World-wide, over 50 million died.* Just as flu today, it was spread by coughing, sneezing and human contact, though, at the time, those causes were not always understood.

Those between ages 25 and 40 were most susceptible to Spanish flu, brought from Europe by returning service men. There was no gradual onset, ensuring that some were so quickly stricken that often death came within hours. Twenty percent of the infected got pneumonia. Half of that number was dead 48 hours later.

In the beginning teachers immediately sent students home when they reported not feeling well, but then schools were closed. It wasn’t long before all public gatherings and events such as movies were shut down. Public funerals and visitations in the homes of those who died from the flu were curtailed, though church funerals could be held with a minimum number of people in attendance. Marriages were also allowed to go forward but, as with funerals, few were allowed to attend. There were warnings against public coughing. Spitting in public was against the law and was said to be enforced. Even kissing was discouraged. Church leaders balked when it was suggested churches close. The flu was political.

In Milwaukee, where it was said that 20% of the population had the flu, newspapers tried to be positive by abandoning stories that would trigger fear in favor of those providing education and information. Stories from Europe said little about flu in war-torn countries, but much was written about it in neutral Spain, prompting the disease to be named Spanish Flu.

Residents of Kewaunee County died in their beds. Kewaunee County servicemen died in Europe and they died in the U.S. William Pfluger was at Camp McClellan when he died of pneumonia and bronchitis. Edward Mach was at Camp Custer, Michigan when he died of pneumonia. Private Koukalik died of Spanish Influenza at Fort McHenry, Georgia. Adding to the family’s grief was the shock of Koukalik’s eight year old nephew dropping dead upon viewing the remains. Frank Jirtle died of pneumonia in March. The Coast Guard and Sons of Veterans fired a salute over his grave. Henry E. Holtdorp (Holdorf) battled pneumonia for a week before he died in France in September. A small white cross marks his grave there. Louis Bull was stricken with pneumonia while he was working in a gas shell manufacturing plant in spring 1917. He wanted to be a soldier and never made it into uniform.

It wasn’t only service men. The flu didn’t forget anybody. Even doctors died. In some places bodies weren’t immediately buried because the grave diggers were also stricken. Anna Kochmich left teaching for nursing, entering the Reserve Corp of Nurses at Fort Oglethorpe in December 1918. She contracted influenza and died of pneumonia on January 19.

Kewaunee County registered 3,283 men, ages 18-45, in four drafts. Four hundred fourteen were inducted though there were exemptions. The number of servicemen who contracted the flu and lived is not documented. And, as in the Civil War, disease was a greater enemy than bullets.

*Depending on when articles and books were written, sources give a death counts from over 20 million to as much as 100 million. A consensus of authorities appears to be 50 million deaths, roughly 5% of the world’s population at the time.

Sources include the Algoma Record Herald, Kewaunee Enterprise, Door County Advocate, Kewaunee County Honor Roll, 1917-1919 and Wisconsin Women by Genevieve McBride, c. 2005.