Memphis, Tennessee |
it rained that year, torrential rain, that fell, collecting in stagnant puddles, in open sewers, in our Memphis streets, and when it stopped, our air swam thick with mosquitoes, indiscriminating in their thirst for blood. five years before, Death stalked our town taking over two thousand— men, women, children, babes in arms. at first its symptoms matched a flu aches and pains and fevers passing quickly, but for too many, Death returned, yellowing skin, and spewing vomit, black with blood. this August, when Death returned, his eyes glowing yellow and fevered, Memphis vanished, her people fled. more than half left leaving doors unlocked and dinner ready at each table. and Death touched us, the few who remained. we screamed and ran our pain through empty streets as our bodies failed. seventeen thousand ill. houses burned against contagion church bells tolled a constant funeral, while survivors drove carts to collect bodies like cords of wood and shout, bring out your dead. we fell, doctors and shopkeepers, nuns and prostitutes, policemen and lawyers, men with long white beards and school children who should have known more life— two hundred a day until frost came and Death left what used to be a town. Memphis was dead, no mayor, no police, no children playing in the frozen remnants of mosquito swamps. more than five thousand buried. we still walk Elmwood, through No Man’s Land, where they lie— without names or headstones, our souls bleeding for our dead. line count: 60 Author's note: In 1878, a yellow fever epidemic hit from Memphis to New Orleans, leaving more than 20,000 dead all over Mississippi river valley. In Memphis, our first native died August 13, 1878. By September, Memphis was bankrupt, and no longer was incorporated as a town. More than 25,000 left, another 5,000 dead. Prompt for: Jan 6, 2016 ▼ |