Mom remembered how the bells kept tolling at St. Gabrielle’s Church

Grays Ferry, Philadelphia.

I’m writing to convey my mother’s flu story. Her name was Isabelle Frank (nee Gallagher) the eldest daughter of two Irish immigrants (Thomas & Isabelle McCutcheon Gallagher). She was born in Philadelphia in 1909. She had a younger sister named Mary. Her father Thomas was originally a coachman, but when he married Isabelle, her brothers (James & Robert McCutcheon) gave him a job at their printing and ink making place on Callowhill Street. Sadly, my mother’s mother (who was a nurse at Presbyterian Hospital) died of a ruptured appendix in 1914, not long after giving birth to Mary. My mom’s father remarried shortly after to his former housekeeper, a widow named Henrietta Hyde.

My mother’s recollection of the pandemic in Philadelphia was truly horrifying. She was only nine years old. She, her sister, their father, and her stepmother lived on South Guenther Street (this street’s name has been changed). Mom remembered how the bells kept tolling at St. Gabrielle’s Church during the epidemic. What was burned into her memory were the coffins stacked up along the curbs waiting to be taken away. They were stacked two and sometimes three high. Due to the sheer number of deaths, many of the coffins stood outside for days awaiting burials. My mom remembered the maggots that were crawling out of some of the caskets.

Fortunately, there were no deaths in their household during this time. Mom said that her dad gave everyone hot toddies of hot water, sugar, and “good” Irish whiskey each night before bed. My mom credits that as the reason everyone survived the flu! Nowadays, you would be thrown in jail for giving children alcohol! My mom’s stories stirred a deep interest in me of the 1918 pandemic. I collected many resources and passed the stories onto my own children.

Contributed by Barbara J Selletti, Daughter of Isabelle Gallagher- Frank.