When flu strikes
Mayor urges city residents to help sick neighbours as even the news is affected by an outbreak of flu.
Influenza was raging in Palmerston North on Friday, August 10, 1923 – but though bad enough, fortunately, it wasn’t a rerun of the earlier 1918 pandemic.
On that cold, cloudy day of rain squalls and high winds, the
Manawatu¯ Standard newspaper was apologising to readers for its reduced news service.
‘‘The influenza epidemic has made further inroads upon the
Standard staff,’’ the editorial declared, ‘‘and the difficulties attendant upon ‘getting to press’ have been even greater today than yesterday.
‘‘As a consequence to our greatly depleted staff, we are able to handle only very little reading matter requiring [type]setting, and our apologies are due to our readers for the paucity of news matter in this issue.
‘‘Apologies are also due to advertisers from whom we were unable to accept advertisements for today’s and tomorrow’s issues. Town and country subscribers too are being put to some inconvenience through irregular
deliveries. This is due to our regular ‘runners’ being laid up and substitutes have carried on as well as possible.’’
Around town, most families had at least one person affected. In some households, everyone was sick.
Mayor Frederick Nathan appealed to healthy Palmerstonians to help the less fortunate.
‘‘Fortunately, the epidemic is not of a virulent type,’’ the
Standard quoted him, ‘‘and the assistance required is not so much technical knowledge of nursing, but knowledge of housekeeping and the sweet willingness to help those who are for the moment incapable of helping themselves, and attending to the wants of children.’’ He urged prospective volunteers to phone the mayoress at 163 College St, or a Mrs Aitchison at 97 Church St east.
Placed conveniently near this item was an ad: ‘‘Advice for ‘flu: go to bed, keep warm and inhale Nazol, a powerful and handy remedy; acts like a charm; 60 doses, 1/6.’’
The flu was also inspiration for a prolific local jingle-writer, now unknown, who penned these verses:
‘‘Father and mother and family of eight/ Were down with the ’flu, I regret to relate/ They discovered wet feet was really the cause/ And Nature will punish who breaketh her laws/ So they all resolved to have wet feet no more/ By wearing warm footwear – from Phil Duncalf’s store.’’
Despite the gaps left by sick staff, the August 10 newspaper contained plenty to read, including adverts and news.
‘‘Philatelists throughout New Zealand will be interested to know that . . . a new stamp to mark the reintroduction of penny postage has been approved by the Postmastergeneral, the Hon JC Coates,’’ readers were informed. The old red penny stamp had been suspended in 1915, replaced by a pre-printed stamp featuring a New Zealand map. Penny postage would return on October 1, 1923.
Also planned for early October would be the unveiling of Feilding’s war memorial – a winged marble statue of Victory, on a column in Manchester Square.
This cable story came from Warsaw: ‘‘Despairing of their governments in Lithuania and Poland ending the state of war officially existing, groups of peasants along the Niemen frontier made their own peace treaty, and agreed the frontier should lie in the middle of the river Niemen where there are a number of fertile islands.
‘‘The peasants’ negotiators agreed that Kovno and Warsaw were far away, and neither government would feed their cattle, so they foregathered and apportioned the islands. Peace now reigns.
‘‘The guards’ only function is hauling Lithuanian and Polish children out of the Niemen when they fall in.’’
An odd Australian news item, which might lead readers to ask ‘‘Who?’’ and ‘‘Why?’’, was headed: ‘‘Hopes of career dashed.’’ It told the strange story of a young Australian contralto who had headed for Europe a year earlier, ‘‘happy and confident, to make her name’’.
‘‘Today she returned to Melbourne . . . a complete nervous wreck and suffering from acute melancholia.
‘‘When the liner was about to sail from Tilbury, two uniformed nurses arrived on the gangway bearing between them a frail, darkeyed girl. They thrust her passport and other documents into her lap, and left her. A motherly woman, noticing the pathetic look in the girl’s eyes, approached her. ‘I’m a singer, but my heart is dying,’ were the only words the girl could utter.
‘‘The ship’s doctor diagnosed her condition as acute nervous trouble.
‘‘Examination of her papers showed she had been a patient at a nursing home for nervous diseases up to the time of the Largs Bay [ship] departure. She was placed on board practically penniless.
‘‘On the voyage, she had to be carefully tended.
‘‘Her mother met her at the pier today.
‘‘She is well known in Sydney, where the money for her trip to Europe was raised by an influential committee.
‘‘She was instrumental in raising a large sum of money for the South Sydney Hospital.’’
Here at home, Palmerston North had plenty of entertainment for residents well enough to brave the weather.
Beattie and Proctor Ltd, registered plumbers of 85 Cuba St, opposite the Soldiers’ Club on the corner of Cuba and George streets, were hosting a ‘‘gaslight display’’ of paintings in aid of funds for the West End School, tickets one shilling each.
And on Monday: Cairo ,a musical extravaganza from London would be opening at the Opera House, headed by veteran actormanager Oscar Asche, a big man with a big personality who had been touring Australasia for 11 years.
Hopefully, the performers stocked up on plenty of Nazol on arriving in town.