Letter to the editor: What old headstones tell us about today

Headstones in old cemeteries tell sad, but interesting stories. I can’t show you the photograph of the Bloomfield family plot in the historic Oakland Cemetery outside Atlanta that I saved to my laptop today, but I can tell you about it.

Faded letters on the old gray stone show these names:

Bridget E

Died Jan’y 13, 1863, in the eighth year of her age

Anna T

Died Jan’y 11, 1863, in the sixth year of her age

Catherine A

Died Jan’y 17, 1863, in the fourth year of her age

Isabella

Died Jan’y 22, 1863, in the second year of her age

According to the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, the Bloomfield family had nine children. Then Bridget, Anna, Catherine and Isabella died within 10 days — after an uninvited guest called diphtheria came to call.

The newspaper reported that close to 30% of the graves in that cemetery were children’s. It used to be normal for one in five children to die before reaching their fifth birthday (reported by the American Lung Association, along with many others). Measles, smallpox, polio, pertussis, diphtheria and more mowed little ones down.

If their parents had had the chance to vaccinate their children against the diseases that killed them, I bet they would have jumped at it.

A 2024 study in The Lancet showed that, today, “infant mortality rates are 40% lower than they would be in a world without vaccines.”

Perhaps we’ve gotten a bit spoiled by the relative safety we enjoy in a vaccinated world — spoiled enough to conclude that doctors and nurses and medical researchers are our enemies, but politicians who build their reputations — and bank accounts — through misinformation are our friends.

Like perusing old gravestones, it’ll be interesting to see how mortality rates in Florida fare if that state succeeds in rolling back all vaccination requirements, as its chief medical officer is urging. How many Floridian children, cancer patients, elders and others with vulnerable immune systems would die unnecessary deaths?

The answer, I fear, would be sad, though interesting.

Susanne Weil

Onalaska