Petaluma’s 1918-1920 Pandemic Battle

Staff of G.P. McNear’s Grain Hay & Grain Mill at B and Main streets, November 18, 1918. Top row, left to right: Miss M. George , Miss V. Elfring, Miss A. Turner, M. Madeira, Miss N. Doss, Mrs. C. Parr, Mrs. F. Frasier, Mrs. C. Barkin, Miss M. Wessela, Mr. C. N. Behrens, Mr. M. L. Hunt, Mr. Hiram Hopkins, Mr. A. H. Askill, Mr. Elmer Starke.
 

In June of 1918, the government deployed Petaluma’s mayor, a saddle maker named A.W. Horwege, to Portland, Oregon, to run a large saddle plant for the U.S. Cavalry fighting in World War I. Chosen to fill his remaining term was city councilman Dr. Harry S. Gossage, a prominent local surgeon. Aside from a minor deficit in the city’s budget, Gossage’s mayoral challenges appeared relatively routine.

The main news that summer was that American forces fighting in Europe had achieved their first major victory, marking a turning point in the war. However, on the horizon signs of a larger threat loomed, one, it turned out, Mayor Gossage was uniquely qualified for.

It began with word from Spain that a deadly influenza was spreading across the continent. American media, mistakenly assuming the disease had originated in Spain, tagged it the Spanish Flu. The influenza soon spread to U.S. military bases, and by midsummer Petaluma newspapers were running obituaries of local enlisted men stationed in army camps out East and in the Midwest.

In mid-September, as allied forces began their final offense of the war in Europe, a San Francisco man returning from a visit to Chicago brought back the disease. Although he was immediately quarantined in a hospital, by the first week of October influenza had spread to a couple hundred people in San Francisco. A week later, the pandemic reached Sonoma County, where it claimed its first victim, Helen Groul, a young girl living at the Salvation Army orphanage in Lytton, north of Healdsburg. She was among 153 children at the orphanage stricken with influenza.

As local newspapers began running obituaries of former Petaluma residents killed by the disease in other parts of the Bay Area, Dr. Gossage, who also chaired the city’s board of health, held a special meeting of the city council on the epidemic. Although no cases of influenza had been reported in Petaluma, the mayor raised the issue of a general closure to get ahead of it.

Many feared such an order would do more harm than good, inducing panic and crippling the economy, and ultimately proving ineffective. Others argued it was probably too late to take such action, as Santa Rosa already had sixty reported cases, and California overall 19,000 cases.

On October 19th, California’s State Board of Health ordered the closure of all theaters, dance halls, and schools, along with a ban on public gatherings. Churches were exempted, although it was strongly recommended they either cancel services or hold them in the open air, which is what St. Vincent’s Catholic Church did two days later.

Despite the closures and gatherings ban, the centerpiece of the state’s crusade against the influenza was the face mask. Initially, a mandatory mask order was issued only to health care workers and members of households where there were cases of influenza.

But within days of the closure order, nearly everyone on the streets of Petaluma was wearing a mask. “Sewsters” at the Red Cross were busy making them for anyone who wanted one, with prices capped at ten cents each ($2 in today’s currency) to hinder profiteering. People were advised to boil their masks once a day for sanitary purposes, and detailed instructions were issued in the newspapers for those who wished to sew their own masks.

The influenza arrived in Petaluma the third week of October, quickly claiming the life of Joseph Biaggi, a Swiss-Italian farmworker, as its first casualty. On November 1st, Mayor Gossage issued a mandatory mask order for anyone venturing outside, as well as to merchants and their clerks, and people working in offices.

Petaluma Courier, October 25, 1918; photo above of employees of George P. McNear’s Feed Mill, B Street and Petlauma Boulevard South, 1918, including Ada Fay Turner, top row, third from left (Petaluma Historical Museum & Library)

Wearing a mask immediately became of a symbol of wartime patriotism. The Red Cross bluntly declared that “the man or woman or child who will not wear a mask now is a dangerous slacker.” It worked for most residents, but there were still many slackers who flaunted the order by wearing their masks beneath their noses or else around their neck while smoking. Petaluma police began arresting and fining slackers $1 for the first offense, and $5 for the second ($20 and $100 in today’s currency).

Due to a shortage of nurses—many of them were away, serving in the war effort—the health system was quickly overwhelmed, as was the telephone system, which doctors, nurses, and druggists depended upon for communicating with patients. Things became worse when a number of women operators at the local switchboard came down with the flu. The Petaluma Argus issued an appeal to women to refrain from “gossiping on the line,” so as to reserve the phone system for those critically ill.

The declaration of Armistice Day on November 11th, marking the end of World War I, sent a record number of people wearing masks into the streets of Petaluma for a celebratory parade. Two weeks later, as the local epidemic subsided, Mayor Gossage suspended the mandatory mask order, authorizing the opening of schools, theaters, dance halls, and churches just in time for Thanksgiving. The next day, a large crowd gathered on Main Street near the town clock and celebrated by burning their masks in a large metal tub.

Armistice Day Parade, November 11, 1918, at corner of B Street and Petaluma Boulevard South (Petaluma Historical Museum & Library)

The reprieve proved to be only temporary. A second wave of influenza came roaring back at Christmas, with 243 new cases and 35 deaths reported in San Francisco.

People were again warned to avoid crowds, and for a few weeks Santa Rosa reinstated its mask order. A third but relatively milder wave followed in April of 1919, forcing the closure of Petaluma schools for the remainder of the school year.

By that time, 305,856 cases of influenza had been reported in California, and 20,904 deaths, making for a ratio of 68 deaths per thousand cases. 175 of the deaths had occurred in Sonoma County. The Petaluma Box Factory, which made wooden boxes and crates for the shipping of fruit and eggs—including in 1918 a government order for half a million wood fruit baskets to be sent to war-torn France— was issued a government commission to make emergency caskets.

Tom Garside (far right) and fellow carpenters at Petaluma Box Factory, H and First streets, commissioned to make emergency caskets in 1919. (photo courtesy of Deneane Glazier Ashcraft)

In May, with the influenza appearing to be over, an exhausted Dr. Gossage, who had balanced his mayoral duties with those of treating his patients, announced he would not run for reelection that summer, but instead devote his time to his family and medical practice.

The following winter however, the cold weather brought a fourth and final wave of the disease. Although its mortality rate was half that of the previous winter’s influenza, Petaluma was hit harder than other cities its size, reporting 319 cases and 5 deaths by February of 1920. The city health board issued another ban on gatherings and closed all theaters, dance halls, schools, and churches.

To the board’s dismay, slackers continued to hold dinners, card parties, and social gatherings in defiance of the ban, apparently not willing to let the many tragedies the town had experienced over the past year infringe on their sense of independence.

SOURCES:

Petaluma Argus: “Dr. Gossage Resumes his Practice,” May 11, 1918; “H.S. Gossage Chosen Mayor to Succeed A. W. Horwege Who Has Resigned,” June 4, 1918; “Petaluma Theaters Close Until Further Notice,” October 19, 1918; “Mask Order is Issued,” October 22, 1918; “An Appeal to the Women of Petaluma,” October 28, 1918; “Still Reasons for Concern On Endemic Says County Doctor,” October 30, 1918; “Masks Afford Much Merriment,” November 6, 1918; “Mask Slackers Are Fined,” November 9, 1918; “You Can Take Off Your Mask,” November 22, 1918; “The Programs at the Theaters,” November 25, 1918; “Says Cold Weather Brings Return of Influenza,” January 10, 1919; “School Closes for a Week,” April, 13, 1919; “Board Decides to Keep Schools Closed,” April 19, 1919; “Ban Will Soon Be Lifted,” February 24, 1920; “Somebody Will Get into Trouble,” February 24, 1920.

Petaluma Courier: “Many Cases of Influenza,” October 15, 1918; “Death at Lytton Home,” October 17, 1918; “Discuss Closing of Theaters,” October 19, 1918; “Precaution Taken by Board of Health,” October 20, 1918; “Funeral of J. Biaggi,” October 30, 1918; “Everyone Must Wear Masks in Petaluma,” November 2, 1918; “Petaluma’s Joyful Peace Parade,” November 12, 1918; “Many Masks Were Burned by Crowds,” November 23, 1918; “Health Board in Session,” February 14, 1920; “Ban Will be Lifted,” February 27, 1920.

Santa Rosa Republican: “Keeping Influenza Down,” February 3, 1919; “Influenza Ban May Not Lift Monday in Petaluma,” February 26, 1920.

Gaye LeBaron column, Santa Rosa Press Democrat, March 28, 2020.

Jeff Elliott, Someone You Know Died Today, and Likewise Tomorrow,” Santa Rosa History, October 7, 2018, santarosahistory.com

“Over 300,000 Case of Influenza in California,” Riverside Daily Press, June 11, 1919.
“San Francisco 1918 Pandemic History”
https://www.influenzaarchive.org/cities/city-sanfrancisco.html#

Author: John Patrick Sheehy

John is a history detective who digs beneath the legends, folklore, and myths to learn what’s either been hidden from the common narrative or else lost to time, in hopes of enlarging the collective understanding of our culture and communities.

16 thoughts on “Petaluma’s 1918-1920 Pandemic Battle”

  1. “To the board’s dismay, slackers continued to hold dinners, card parties, and social gatherings in defiance of the ban…”

    I guess the members fo our history group are NOT slackers today. By this metric, anyway. Good article, John!

  2. I did a spit take when I read about the law banning expectorating on the streets.

  3. Thanks, John!
    Very helpful and informative slice of local history. The parallels nationally are scary.

  4. This was a great article. I once read an entire book about the Great Influenza but nothing about the local effects. So interesting that the main ways of combating it have not progressed in 100 years, but they didn’t have on-line to assist. Medicine has not gotten any better at all. My wife, who has been making masks for many friends, now has a title…Sewster, and she is a whiz at it.
    One notable difference is that back then, young people, especially young military recruits, were the primary victims, while this time, those under 20 are practically immune.
    On the upside, medical services are far more advanced now, and the world will come out vastly better off than in 1918 when estimates of the death count varied greatly due to poor communications but ranged from 50 to 100 MILLION.

    1. The differences between the current bug and the 1918 influenza are multitude, starting with it not being influenza, and ending with the profile of the victims. We are living in fear currently, and abandoning the freedoms given us by our founders.

  5. Nice article! I’ve been trying to find information on the Spanish Flu in Sonoma County. My grandmother’s fiance was one of its victims and have been trying to find a list somewhere to see if I can find out more information about him.

      1. Check with Connie Williams at the Petaluma Regional Library. She works upstairs with the historical materials, and she’s amazing.

  6. This was so interesting. Thanks so much. Gives us hope that we’ll get through this thing.

  7. I continue to enjoy, and learn from, your increasingly frequent historical columns.

  8. I really enjoyed this article, it gives a very intimate experience of the trials of those times. Where I lost a little respect for the article was in the continued use of the term ‘slackers’. I’m clear, that initially, the author is reporting on the words used at that time by one section of the community. However, continuing to use that term, without further exploration, is a sign of what’s wrong with our political climate today. We seem to be losing the ability to listen to another point of view and accept that other opinions may very well be valid. We all make decisions every day about the risks we are willing to take in our lives and often, those risks are not only for ourselves but for others as well. Labeling someone as a slacker probably did as little back then to encourage compliance as it would today. I loved the pictures and the clear representation of the times.

    1. They were also called “kickers” in addition to “slackers” by the media and officials at the time. One difference was that people practicing civil disobedience in regard to public safety laws at the time were subjected to fines and even arrest, if the violations were that flagrant.

  9. Oh Pam…Calm down…it’s just an article, actually an excellent historical article. Thank you John Sheehy.

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