Family tales from 1918 pandemic

Re “Haunted by the secrets of other pandemic: 1918 flu,” Column One, May 8

Mitchell Landsberg’s piece on the 1918 pandemic’s impact on his grandparents brought back memories of the flu’s effect on mine.

Like Landsberg, my maternal grandparents were Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe who spoke English with a Yiddish accent. My grandfather who owned a small paint store died in the pandemic, leaving my grandmother with three young children.

Grandma had no education and very little money. There was no government assistance at that time. Since she did not want to become dependent on relatives or a husband for support, she decided that her best option was to convert the paint store into an ice cream and candy shop, where she eked out a meager living.

When I asked my mother about her father, she didn’t remember anything except that she teethed on his pocket watch, leaving tiny imprints. I have that watch, which I treasure and wear frequently. It also brings back haunting memories. Bunny Landis

Oceanside

Thank you, Mr. Landsberg, for sharing your family history with the 1918 flu pandemic.

One thing rang really true: Secrets don’t stay secret forever. They eventually become uncovered, usually because of the death of a loved one.

Landsberg’s story was relatable to this 61-year-old African American woman who has experienced family revelations from my maternal grandfather’s life. This points up another truth: We are all tied together in the humanity exhibited in our lives.

Lynette Kelsey Riverside