Spooky Ideas and the Flu Vaccine

I was trying to figure out what Dr. Pangloss, the optimistic philosopher of Voltaire’s famous satire Candide, would say about the shortage of flu shots when suddenly he appeared before me, a ghost. He repeated his famous advice: “It is clear that things cannot be otherwise than they are, for since everything is made to serve an end, everything necessarily serves the best end.” I recognized that peppy sentiment from a literature class. I remembered that he had applied it to every circumstance, no matter how horrific or pleasant, when he was still alive in the pages of the novel.

I can’t take the flu shot, so I tried to let Dr. Pangloss assure me that a shortage won’t affect me. But it will! It will! Since I can’t get immunized, I depend on others to stay healthy and not sneeze all over me. When he heard my flimsy whining, Dr. Pangloss told me to calm down. He asked me to remember the last time I had the flu and how it gave me an opportunity to lie prostrate for days, occasionally rising to drink hot tea and eat cinnamon toast. I got to feel like a child again, didn’t I? Didn’t I get all the sleep I needed to catch up on, and then some? Didn’t I get a vacation from work?

“But what about my elderly mother, Dr. Pangloss?” I asked. “She wasn’t up to going to Kroger at one in the morning to wait in line for eight hours the way old Homer Fink did in West Virginia.” “Old Homer Fink wasn’t either,” Dr. Pangloss replied. “But he did it! Think about all the new friends he made while sitting next to that colorful Halloween display at the grocery store. He should get out more often. Your mama too!”

It was hard to convince Dr. Pangloss that a woman about to turn 83 deserves better than that. All of those elderly people who have collapsed, or worse, while waiting for shots deserve better than that. Ever cheerful, he reminded me of the beautiful woman who had been his lively companion through many pages of the novel, even infecting him with a disease. He described the disease in more detail than I cared to remember, as it had been bad enough to read about it in graphic detail the first time, and then reminded me that such adversity never harms a flea.

As Dr. Pangloss continued to provide a descriptive discourse on “The Chain of Events Within this Universe,” I grew bored. “You’re a fictional character,” I finally exclaimed. “And a ghost to boot!” Elated to be reminded his demise, which led him to reflect on the possibility of new companions, given the shortage of flu vaccines, Dr. Pangloss began to wax eloquent about Paradise when I interrupted him to ask him exactly why he’d bothered to appear to me. “What’s the point?” I asked. “I wish a more practical ghost had shown up.”

This ghost shook his bony finger at me and reminded me that nothing, not even death or a shortage of flu shots, could change his opinion. “It would not be right for me to recant,” he said, “since Leibniz could not possibly be wrong.” “Leibniz, schleibniz,” I jeered. What was it about Dr. Pangloss, always deferring to the wisdom of a philosopher sorely satirized by the great writer Voltaire? I began to wonder if I should have conjured up the ghost of Dr. Jonas Salk instead. I know if I could, I’d put him to work in this best of all possible worlds.

Felicia Mitchell. First published in Washington County News (Abingdon, VA), 27 October 2004, p. A6. WCN is a publication of Media General Operations. Copyright 2004.

Gordon's Scraps of Advice

Children love buried treasures. Sometimes a treasure is as close as an old chest. While I was growing up, I knew which chest contained my mother’s buried past. Now and then, I’d get a glimpse, but one thing I never got to see for more than a few seconds was her sister Gordon’s scrapbook. I longed to see what was inside the pages of this black book, but it was not for my eyes.

This weekend, I visited South Carolina and found Gordon’s scrapbook out of the chest, atop a bookshelf. Emboldened, I took this treasure into my hands for the first time and opened it to the first page. As I leafed through the album, I began to jot things down to remember. (Sallie! So that was Gordon’s first name.) That’s when my mother gave it to me. She handed me her most prized keepsake.

Studying the scrapbook later that evening, I realized that it wasn’t something Gordon put together before she said goodbye to family and friends. Instead, this book was what her mother Ruth compiled in 1930 after Gordon died, at the age of twelve, in Roper Hospital in Charleston, SC, before penicillin was available to treat children with ruptured appendices. What lessons can we learn after all these years from Gordon McClary to share with our own children?

Cherish your schooling. Gordon loved school. Every time she ended up with good grades, her name ended up in the weekly newspaper alongside other names noted as “distinguished” or “honorably mentioned.” In the third grade, during the month of October 1927, she received an award for “distinction in Lessons and Deportment.” Pinned to this certificate is a button that says Crafts School Honor Roll. A report card from the third grade lists lots of A’s with a few marks of B+ for arithmetic and penmanship.

Study hard, but don’t forget the joy of extracurricular activities. Her last year in school, Gordon played Matilda Bradford in a Thanksgiving pageant. Another time, she participated in a program called “The Road to Health,” wherein children made exhibits to honor Dr. Fresh Air, Dr. Sleep, Dr. Rest, Dr. Vegetable, Dr. Sunshine, Dr. Water, Dr. Milk, and Dr. Laughter. As they are now, festivals were important then. The Parent-Teacher Association sponsored a festival one evening for ten cents admission, and Gordon helped.

Whatever your own circumstances are, remember to help others. Service activities were integral to schooling. Once, according to a newspaper clipping, Gordon and her classmates collected fifteen baskets of fruit for Roper Hospital, St. Margaret’s Home, and Kings’ Daughters Nursery. Another time, they donated two baskets of dolls to the Charleston Orphan House.

Have a lot of fun being a child. Just as our children today find time for fun, Gordon and her friends had time to play around. They shared affection freely. Colorful valentines fill the last pages of Gordon’s scrapbook, where there is also a note somebody passed her in school and a drawing Gordon made of two girls swinging: “Good Old Times.” In 1928, H.B. Reese Candy Company introduced the peanut butter cup. Gordon ate one.

Wear your life as if it will never go out of style. The first few pages of Gordon’s scrapbook contain sepia photographs of a fashionable girl from three to eleven. In one photo, wearing a cloche, Gordon grins. In another, she stands barefooted with sisters Brown and Audrey. One year, she was a cat for Halloween. In my favorite photo, Gordon is standing with a paper bag in one hand and a book in another. It is her first day of school.

Felicia Mitchell. First published in Washington County News (Abingdon, VA), 13 October 2004, p. A6. WCN is a publication of Media General Operations. Copyright 2004.