When you walk through cemeteries as old as the ones in Forest Park, (most of which opened in the late 1800s), you will notice a sobering number of children’s graves. A baby born in Chicago in the 1870s had less than a 50% chance of making it to their fifth birthday.
More than half of all deaths in the city were children under five. Babies under a year old had a death rate of 74% while children between the ages of one and four had a death rate of 48%. Some of the diseases that stalked these children were typhoid fever, cholera, dysentery, tuberculosis, influenza, bronchitis, pneumonia, measles, whooping cough, scarlet fever, and diphtheria. It was diphtheria which sadly took the lives of Lars and Eddie Schmidt. The brothers were both under five years old when they tragically died 17 days apart from each other in 1890.
You might be familiar with the Schmidt brother’s grave – photos of the site have been published in several books and webpages. Two small statues solemnly watch over the graves side by side, together in death. While one child is portrayed in a dress, they are, in fact, both boys. It was not uncommon at the time to dress boys and girls similarly while they were young — skirts not only made diaper changing easier, boys didn’t typically start wearing pants until around the age of five. Besides the poignancy of brothers dying so young, time and the elements have worn down the granite statues, giving them a melancholy appearance. Many folks who visit the graves of Lars and Eddie leave gifts — teddy bears, toy cars, etc.
Next to the statues lie two of the boys’ siblings, Rudolph, who lived less than nine years, and an unnamed baby who died before 1900. Their headstones are carved with sleeping angels, which was a common memorial for young children. These four deaths must have been particularly painful for their father who worked as an undertaker. Fortunately for Lars and Eddie’s parents, they went on to have three more children, girls, who all lived into adulthood.
Near the Schmidt brothers’ graves stands another sad statue of a child: Wilhelmine Hellwig. Tragically, Wilhelmine died on September 22, 1884 – the day she turned three years old. The notice of Wilhelmine’s passing in the papers did not state the cause of her death, but another notice in the same listing was from diphtheria. (Quite often in those times, if a firm diagnosis couldn’t be made, and a child died from a respiratory illness, diphtheria would be listed as the cause.)
Like the Schmidt brothers, gifts are left for Wilhelmine: stuffed animals, bouquets of flowers, etc. Wilhelmine’s statue also seems to be taken from life. It is a small girl with a stoic expression, wearing the fashion of the times, leaning against a broken column (which indicates a life cut short). The weathered inscriptions on the front and side of the base are in German and state that Wilhelmine was the daughter of William and Mary Hellwig and the granddaughter of John and Wilhelmina Preis, all of whom are buried nearby.
Sadly, diphtheria, along with other childhood diseases, is making a comeback due to incomplete vaccine administration or vaccine non-adherence. Before vaccinations, epidemics of diphtheria could devastate communities.
Noah Webster once said of diphtheria, “It was literally the plague among children.” Diphtheria primarily affects children under 12. It produces a thick layer of bacterial cells that covers the throat and tonsils making it difficult to swallow and breathe. Diphtheria comes from the Greek word, diphthera, meaning “leather hide,” which describes the thick gray membrane that forms during an infection.
Who knows what kind of an impact Lars, Eddie, and Wilhelmine might have had on the world had they lived longer. We can, though, learn lessons from their heartbreaking deaths caused by diseases that, with effort, we can still eradicate.
References: Journal of Family Medicine and Primary Care, Cureus, Chicago Tribune, History of Vaccines, Historyofvaccines.org, Mayoclinic.org, Postsinthegraveyard.com, Report of the Board of Health of the Chicago of Chicago: Chicago History Classics (Chicago Public Library), National Bureau of Economic Research