When Adam lost his Eve in 1918 pandemic
As we all do our best to be our best during this pandemic, we might be wondering how our families survived the pandemic of 1918. After all, life was decidedly different 102 years ago. I’d like to share a story about Adam, who was a husband and father of three little ones when that pandemic hit his city of Baltimore.
My grandfather Adam and his beloved young wife gave birth to my father on January 1, 1918. I have only one picture of my dad as a baby. It was taken on Easter and he is being held by his mother.
Just six months later, she would be dead from the 1918 Pandemic. And my grandfather Adam, without his Eve, would be left with three little boys: 5, 3, and a 9-month-old baby.
In 1918, my grandfather Adam was a recent immigrant and he worked as a stevedore. He lived near the Baltimore harbor and was paid only when he participated in the grueling work of emptying containers from the ships.
Although I do not have research on this, I am speculating that the arrival of ships was not predictable. I imagine the ships pulled into harbor at various times of the day and night. And my grandfather had to be there if he wanted to be paid.
So what did Adam Niedzialkowski do? His young wife, Stella Eve, died. He had an infant and two preschoolers. There was no daycare, no government subsidies. My guess is that his friends, fellow immigrants, pitched in and helped him to care for the little ones. But I don’t know.
What I do know is that this realization has helped me to be humble whenever I have been saddened by what this 2020 pandemic has done to my family’s life. In no way does my sacrifice come near what Adam, my grandfather, dealt with in 1918.
In fact, in Baltimore, they ran out of coffins. Cremation was not a common choice so many families suffered with the reality that their loved ones had no place to rest.
On days when I begin to feel sorry for myself, I take out the picture of my dad as a baby with his mother. I gaze into the eyes of my grandmother on that Easter morning when she held her 3-monthold son. She had no idea that in just six months, her tiny baby would not have a mother. When I look at her, I am humbled and strengthened.
Adam, without his Eve, survived. Actually he more than survived. My grandfather lived to dance at his grandchildren’s weddings. Before he passed away, he insisted that his children plan a glorious celebration with a band and good food when he died. Life, he insisted, was what you made of it. For him, it was beautiful even in the challenging times.
My grandfather learned, as I am learning, that the present must be treasured because the future is always the unknown. So today I choose joy. And I remember and am strengthened by the sacrifice of those who went before me.