Mary Elizabeth (Menold) Beine
Losing a Mother, Grandmother, and Aunt
Port Richmond, Philadelphia
Elisabeth Monique (Burgert) Marx, on left, with her daughter Elizabeth V. (Marx) Menold and granddaughter Mary Elizabeth Menold, before 1918 
Elizabeth V. (Marx) Menold, about 1905? 
Elizabeth V. (Marx) Menold and her husband Mel Menold, with their daughter Mary Elizabeth, in the yard of their home on 3115 Chatham Street, about 1913? 
Elizabeth V. (Marx) Menold, on right, and an unidentified relative or friend, playing with little Mary Elizabeth in the yard of the Menold home on 3115 Chatham Street, before 1918
As a kid, I always wondered why my grandmother, Mary Elizabeth (Menold) Beine, my nana as I called her, was afraid of getting a flu shot. It was a simple shot that didn’t even require a full doctor’s visit. I would have understood had she been a squeamish woman who was afraid of needles. But that most definitely was not my nana. It truthfully wasn’t until I was in college that I found the root of her fear.
My nana was 7 years old when she lost most of the women in her family that she was so closely bonded to in the flu pandemic. Not only her grandmother, Elisabeth Monique (Burgert) Marx, who was 55 years old when she died, and her 21-year-old aunt Mary Anna Marx, but her mother, Elizabeth V. (Marx) Menold, as well, who was just 31. They all died in October 1918.
She shared with me her fondest memory of running through her home on Chatham Street in Port Richmond, through the connecting yard, into her grandmother’s house on Gaul Street and jumping up into her lap. My nana was in her 90s at that point but her eyes still welled up with the fresh memory. She recalled the youth of her aunt Mary Anna and how beautiful she was. I believe that my nana was named Mary after her aunt.
She didn’t talk much about her mother. My nana was the oldest of two, having a younger sister named Anna. My nana was only 7 when her mother died, and again, in her 90s fresh tears still formed. She talked about her mother’s beauty and kindness. The incredible love that her parents shared. And how wonderful it was to have the whole family living together in a few blocks’ radius.
My nana also told me that the day of my great-grandmother’s funeral, my nana fell ill with the flu. She vaguely remembered her father carrying her downstairs to say goodbye to her mother (the funeral was held in the home) and then him taking her back upstairs to bed.
The family then went to bury my great- grandmother (as they handled all of that, taking her to be buried in Holy Sepulchre cemetery, in the family plot). The family fully expected to have to bury my grandmother when they returned. The services were being planned and arrangements were being made.
However, when they came back, my nana was still alive. She went on to recover and live to be 92. She had 4 children, 2 stepchildren, 10 grandchildren, and 5 great-grandchildren.
Story and photos contributed by Malia Summerfield, granddaughter of Mary Elizabeth (Menold) Beine