TYPHOID FEVER
Ann S. Brown c 2025
We never know what the day may hold, whether it will be good or bad. Things were changing at the home of nine year old Maggie, but she did not know it yet. The date was November 3rd, 1907. There was a chill in the air. Maggie shivered as she hurried along the dirt road. School at Zion Hill had let out early that day and she was anxious to get home. A very special visitor was waiting for her there. The half mile passed quickly as Maggie crossed Helton Creek and walked up Fees Branch Road a little ways. The log house where she lived with her parents and two older brothers set just below the road.
Inside the house Maggie put her dinner pail and books down on a bench. Then she removed her coat and scarf and hung them on a wooden peg behind the door. Maggie went on into the kitchen where she expected to find her Grandpa Stuart sitting in his rocking chair beside the fireplace. He always liked to hear about her day at school and Maggie was excited to tell him about the prize she had won for being the best at spelling in her class. But his chair was empty. Grandpa Stuart was a widower. His wife, Hila, had died 19 years ago. As he got older, he spent several months at a time with each of his children who lived locally. Three weeks ago he came to their house to stay for awhile. Maggie loved having him there, but he had not been feeling very well.
Suddenly Maggie’s thoughts were interrupted when chunks of wood in the fireplace shifted. The flames burned higher, casting a flickering light across the kitchen table. Maggie saw a dish of peaches with a spoon setting there on the table, as if waiting for her. She was hungry and the peaches were so good she ate them all. Just then, Maggie’s mother, Lula, came in from milking. When she saw that Maggie had eaten those peaches, she sat down in a chair and covered her face with her apron. Lula tried to hold back tears, but could not. Maggie didn’t understand why her mother was so upset. She did not know that Grandpa Stuart was very sick. The doctor had been there that morning and said Grandpa had typhoid fever and it was contagious. And Maggie didn’t know that her mother had been trying to feed those peaches to Grandpa just before she came home from school.
The word “TYPHOID” struck fear into the hearts of people. Sometimes it wiped out whole families. Typhoid fever develops from salmonella typhi, which is a bacteria that lives in contaminated food or water. At certain stages typhoid is very contagious. The man who brought Grandpa Stuart from Piney Creek to his daughter’s house on Helton had already died of typhoid fever. Grandpa Stuart was 87 years old and almost blind, but he had kept his strength until that morning. He had a high fever and was not able to get out of bed. When the doctor who came and examined Grandpa saw the rose colored splotches on his chest, he said there was nothing that could be done. Just keep him comfortable, give laudanum as needed and pray. The neighbors did not come in and help take care of the sick as they usually would have. They were afraid of catching typhoid. Folks in the community did bring food for the family and help with the outside chores. Grandpa Stuart lived five more days. Maggie’s mother tended him until he passed away.
To Maggie everything seemed strange with death in the house. Her parents and older brothers moved about quietly and spoke in hushed tones, as if someone was sleeping. Grandpa Stuart’s body was cleaned and dressed in his Sunday best. A coffin was built for him and he was placed inside. Maggie’s father, Frank, was a Baptist preacher. The next morning he held Grandpa Stuart’s funeral on the front porch. A few of the neighbors came and stood in the yard for the service. Then the body was taken by horse drawn wagon some eight miles away to Piney Creek, NC. Maggie’s parents followed on horseback, while she stayed home with her older brothers. There in the old family cemetery Grandpa Stuart’s coffin was lowered into the ground to rest beside his wife, Hila. It was a sad day for the family, especially Maggie. She loved Grandpa Stuart very much.
During Grandpa Stuart’s illness, Maggie’s father, Frank, prayed many fervent prayers asking God to spare his family from the typhoid fever and He did. None of them got sick. They all lived good long lives. Maggie lived to be 92. She was my Mom. Never underestimate the power of prayer.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” Psalms 23.4 KJV Bible