Orphan Children

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Orphan Children

a tribute to 18th century epidemic victims

From the C.D. "How It All Started"

The mid to later part of the 1700's saw the beginning of European movement in what is now the state of Michigan. Detroit (pronounced day'twah,) a French fort with a thriving settlement, was the launching point for many pioneer groups heading north and west to settle in this territory. One such group of French people headed out in the later part of that century, and wound up wintering by the Flat River in what is now eastern Kent County.

Travel today is nothing compared to what it was like then. In addition to speeds equal to a walk, there were rivers to ford, wetlands to circumnavigate, brush to cut ones way through, and the occasional hostile native inhabitant to deal with. When autumn began, folks who were traveling would generally build themselves a structure to winter in, since further travel was out of the question. We all remember the fate of the Donner party, unprepared and stranded in winter in a valley of the Rocky Mntns., and resorting to cannibalism to survive.

Our group of adventurous souls found themselves a nice sheltered valley with which to winter in. They had plenty of supplies, and the area they stopped at was full of easily hunted game, with a river that teemed with fish. As there were a number of families in their group, the work of building winter-worthy shelters went quickly. Many hands make for short work, and soon they were prepared for the coming snow and cold. Up until now the trip had been devoid of any remarkable problems.

How quickly the worm turns!

At this point in the history of non-native peoples in Michigan, we find the itinerate woodcutter to be of the lowest social class. These were men without families who traveled from place to place following what work they could find in the wood-chopping trade. Everyone needed wood cut, and these men provided that service. Here today-gone tomorrow. Their wages were soon spent on trade whiskey and other debauched forms of entertainment, which could be found in the rustic outposts that sprang up along the rivers and few roads in this state. Every era has a class pariah, and these men fulfilled that role. It is a documented historical fact that epidemics of influenza and other diseases were carried from place to place by these men.

It is assumed that our group of travelers must have had a visit from one of these men, and that the woodcutter was infected with one of the many viruses that thinned the ranks of humans in those days. How else can the deaths of 11 children and 3 old folks in the course of a week be explained. They were the weakest, and the most susceptible.

The horror of it all was that this occurred in the dead of winter. The ground was frozen rock hard, and the burial of the beloved children and elders couldn't happen until a thaw softened the earth. The victims were lovingly wrapped in blankets and canvas, and their now frozen bodies placed in a shed that was constructed for that purpose. Daily, as the survivors moved about their tasks, the sight of the shed containing their loved ones reminded them of their unresolved grief. Burial is the beginning of the grieving process, and that hadn't happened yet.

The first thaw found our friends terribly demoralized, and it was with bowed heads and troubled hearts that they dug the graves in the still hard soil, and lowered their children and elders into their final resting place. The winter of the epidemic would live vividly in their memories, and haunt each and every one to their graves.

It was as if the living were the deceased; troubled and withered in their unresolved grief. The children had been let loose from their earthly bonds, alive and enjoying the place of no illusions.

by Bruce Ling 5-2002