Oklahoma City’s first confirmed case of “Spanish Influenza” was reported on September 29, 1918, when Ms. Corine Smith- A resident of 601 ½ East 5th Street- became ill.

By October 3, there were 1,000 cases reported within 48 hours and two victims had died. The first to die became ill while staying at the Lee Huckins Hotel at Main and Broadway.

Mr. Huckins said his staff was also afflicted.

(The hotel was demolished in 1971.)

Half of The Oklahoman’s printer workers were sick, and three firemen at the central station. Worse still, 20 nurses- ½ of the hospital staff at University hospital- were sick with the flu.

Pictured: 1913 nurse staff at University Hospital

On October 9, an order to close every school, theater, and church went into effect. Public gatherings were banned. The press saw these actions as overdue, and necessary.

Pictured: Overholser Opera House, now demolished, on today’s Sheridan

The restrictions on public life were statewide, and impacted OU football as well. Games with Missouri and Texas were canceled due to both influenza and the war.

“Don’t get panicky,” advised the editors of The Oklahoman, urging readers to comply with new regulations in a desperate attempt to slow the progress of the flu’s spread.

By this point just over a week in, “the working force of nearly every business institution in the city [was] demoralized.” The flu was so widespread that 1/3 of the city’s streetcar operators were sick, according to an announcement by John Shartel.

Mayor Ed Overholser himself contracted the flu in the first week of October.

His illness was so severe that he resigned as mayor months later on Christmas Eve.

During the same meeting, Lake Overholser was named for him.

(Sidenote: The other candidate name would have been McClure Lake, for engineer Guy McClure, who fell ill while working at the site and died of the flu.)

By Oct 18, there were 179 deaths- 18 in the past 24 hours alone.

The city sent out 75 men to scrub and wash sidewalks, streets, and alleys. (The penalty for sidewalk-spitting was increased to jailtime.) Police became ambulances to visit homes, take severe cases to hospitals.

But hospitals were overrun, with women nurses working 48 hour shifts as patients came in faster than they could be discharged. Hospitals were drafting OU medical students who had not yet graduated and calling for more women to volunteer as nurses.

The First Presbyterian Church (then part of “Church Row” on Robinson at 9th Street, now gone) converted its basement to a temporary, 100-bed hospital, staffed by local women managing nurses and a kitchen.

Red Cross distributed information to 20,000 households and worked with Buick Motor Company to accept cars volunteered by citizens to transport nurses and supplies. The Buick building is now Red Prime Steak in Auto Alley. 

The flu hit poor areas worst, and Packingtown (Stockyards) where many black Oklahoma Cityans lived was hard hit. In this area, almost every home had more than one family member with the flu.

Meanwhile, the city’s health department chief went AWOL (Visiting his mom in Missouri) and things went bad at the hospital. “People shouldn’t be left to die, simply because they are poor,” The Oklahoman said.

The city’s health apparatus was handed to Red Cross for management.

By October 29, it still didn’t look good for lifting the ban on public activity. there were 400 active cases in hospitals and thousands more citywide. The health official said “We would like to tell the people there are no new cases, but there are.”

As in the war effort, women were praised for their efforts jumping into action in an emergency. While hospitals had segregated areas for black patients, black women worked alongside white women in hospital kitchens. 

Oklahoma City had to be extremely cautious through early November to slow the outbreak, and once they grasped the seriousness there were few violations of public gathering restrictions. 

By November 5, some makeshift hospitals were being closed and schools were being reopened after deep cleanings. On Nov 10, churches and theaters finally reopened after a month, and Oklahoma City residents were back out and socializing.

The month of closure had cost theaters tremendously as they continued to pay employees and expenses, but they did take advantage of the time to remodel, and advertised their efforts at disinfecting.

(Sidenote: At least two traveling theater troupes had been stranded in OKC during the epidemic.)

Some theaters would remain under restriction until at least December, compelled to rope off every third row to distance the patrons from each other.

Dr. John Duke, state health commissioner, had time to reflect on the response to the epidemic.

“One of the greatest obstacles… was the slowness of the general public in realizing the extreme seriousness of the situation.”

The outbreak slowed, but people still got the flu, and the threat of a re-emergence of the epidemic was present because 1918’s Oklahoma Cityans loved their theaters as much as we love our restaurants and breweries.

In the end, about 7,500 Oklahomans were killed during the influenza outbreak of 1918, and 100,000 got sick (about 5% of Oklahoma’s population at the time.)