The Hoof and Mouth Disease of 1914: A Vignette

   As Mokena continues to sit tight in a world gripped by COVID-19, many of the peculiarities of this new existence have become normal. Social distancing, isolating at home, and even shortages in stores are things villagers of 2020 have slowly become used to. As we have seen in my last article, quarantine and surviving infectious disease aren’t new concepts in Mokena’s long history, the community having made it through everything from the dreaded Spanish Flu, to smallpox and measles, among a host of other illnesses. However, especially unique in our village’s experience is the flare up of hoof and mouth disease that began in 1914 and carried on into 1915. 

   What makes this malady different from so many of the others in our past is that it mainly attacks animals, specifically those of the cloven-hoofed variety. In rare cases, it can also be passed to humans, and is characterized by fever and rupturing blisters on the feet and mouth of those infected. It is a highly contagious and often fatal viral disease, one that struck fear into the hearts of so many of our forefathers in and around in Mokena, as many of them gained their living from animals. 

  At the end of 1914, the feared hoof and mouth disease was noticed amongst cattle herds in eastern Will County. To prevent its spread, dairy farms around Mokena were placed under quarantine, as was the Cleveland school, a small country schoolhouse that stood on the northeast side of what is today the intersection of Wolf Road and the Lincoln Highway. Gradually, by the end of November, the quarantine had been lifted on most of the farms where the illness had exhibited itself. The stockyards at the eastern edge of the village, where large numbers of cattle passed through on a regular basis, were completely disinfected and also newly whitewashed.

   The outbreak was taken very seriously; by the time January 1915 was wrapping up, a ban was slapped onto all local farmers from not only shipping cattle and milk over the Rock Island railroad into Chicago, but a new one also prevented them from transporting grain as well. Mokena livestock handlers such as John Cappel, Emil Krapp, and George W. Maue met at the Union Stockyards in Chicago on February 22^nd to confer with other Will County cattle men on how to handle the situation, and the realization was reached that before long, the whole county would “classified as exposed territory.”

   As the quarantines first started to be lifted in November 1914, one farm remained under tight control, that of dairyman Christian Warning. Making their homestead along the Lincoln Highway, the Warning clan originated in the tiny village of Warnow, in what is today the northeast German state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern. In the fall of 1881, they left home and hearth and made their way to America’s shore, and came to call Mokena home. After marrying Elizabeth Clausen in 1892, 33-year-old Christian Warning purchased the old 160-acre Leffler farm almost two miles south of Mokena, where he and Elizabeth would raise six children.  

The former farmhouse of Christian Warning as it appears on today's Lincoln Highway. 

   A man of no small influence, Christian Warning was elected highway commissioner of Frankfort Township in 1913, and took office after a brief but intense scandal in which the legitimacy of his American citizenship was questioned. As hoof and mouth disease appeared on his farm a year later, the language of the surviving historical record hints at the notion that not all was being done to combat the malady by Warning as could be. The seriousness of the situation at the farm was spelled out in black and white in the Mokena column of the November 25^th, 1914 edition of the Joliet Herald-News. Amidst a blurb detailing the theft of a valuable horse and two buggies from a farm east of town, the correspondent issued a stark admonition. Addressing him by name, a sentence was tacked on that read “Christian Warning! Sick cows will be killed. The trench is being dug.”

   Whether any of his animals had to be condemned has been lost to time, but before the hoof and mouth debacle was over, Warning’s livestock herd was decimated, having lost 74 head of cattle, 35 hogs and 100 ducks. In mid-February 1915, a state inspector was on the property and finally gave the all clear. While the Warning family could count their blessings at having stayed healthy, their livelihood was irreversibly wrecked, and had to make the switch to general farming. 

   Looking back at the hardships endured by our forefathers in their wrangling with various contagious diseases over the years, it becomes easier to be thankful all the more for the advancements of medical technology and the hard work of our doctors and nurses.

Mokena No Stranger to Infectious Disease

  We live in a time when the dire threat of communicable disease is looming over us, and playing a very real role in our lives. The effects of COVID-19 are visible everywhere in Mokena, from the countless business closed, the shuttered public buildings, and even the safety tape that wraps our playgrounds. My last column in the Messenger focused on the most significant other occurrence of something similar in the long history of our community, namely the height of the dreaded Spanish Flu pandemic in the fall of 1918. However, the village has been no stranger to disease over the years.  Before and after the last pandemic, Mokena was also the scene of vicious outbreaks of such illnesses as measles and scarlet fever. Standing guard in these times of uncertainty, was Mokena’s erstwhile board of health.

   In the spring of 1883, the young village, freshly incorporated three years earlier, was wrestling with a serious case of measles. One of the early acts of the community’s new government was to create a small board of health, which at this time was presided over by Dr. William Becker and filled out by saloon keeper Charles Schiek and blacksmith Robert Turner. The board convened on May 23^rd to address the measles outbreak in the household of Charles Werthmüller. While they tried to isolate the case in this home, Werthmüller leveled a complaint against fellow Mokenian Dick McGovney, a 21-year-old who resided with his family on a farm just south of town. Whether his broaching of the subject was valid, or if it was simply a ploy to divert attention from his own family will never be known at this late date, but Werthmüller’s assertion that McGovney’s young siblings were still going to class was serious enough for the board to investigate. 

   On a damage control mission, the board of health paid a visit to the regal two-story school that stood on the east end of town, and had some face time with 13-year-old Ada McGovney, Dick’s younger sister. Ada confirmed that her brother had been sick, but was feeling better that day and would probably be out and about. Erring on the side of caution, the board asked the school’s principal to survey his students for measles in their families, and if there happened to be any, to have them stay home until further notice. 

     Various other disturbances occurred over the years, a notable one being a flare up of scarlet fever that reared its head in town in 1891. At the end of that November, town medicine man Dr. Edmund Lynch made it known to the board of health that scarlet fever was in the house of Christian Sippel, a Front Street store keeper. Accordingly, the gentlemen of the board, F.W. Hinrichsen, Nick Marti and Arthur McGovney, asked the Sippels to keep their infected family members indoors, and also hung a quarantine sign on their premises, warning outsiders from entering.

   Within a day of the sign being put up, Christian Sippel had it taken down. The village constable immediately hung a new sign, and this time delivered the board’s frustrated orders that this time, no one was to leave the house. Town lamplighter Louis Ridder was also hired by the board to check on the Sippels twice a day, and to bring them food and water. For his trouble and risk, he was given a dollar a day, or around thirty dollars in today’s money.

   About a week later, the next chapter in the scarlet fever drama unfolded when the Sippels’ housemaid became too afraid of the malady to continue living with them. After conferring, the board agreed to let the young lady (who name has been long lost to history) instead stay with her grandmother, only with the strict stipulations that upon leaving the Sippels, she would change her work clothes and then “wash her whole body with carbolized water.” She was also ordered not to leave her grandmother’s for ten full days. 

This historic structure on Front Street housed the store and residence of the  Christian Sippel family in 1891.

   Tragically, the scarlet fever outbreak of 1891 exacted a human toll. On December 10^th, Gertrud Elise Sippel, the two-year-old daughter of Christian and Catherine Sippel, succumbed to the after effects of the disease. The next day, before her earthly remains were laid to rest in St. John’s Cemetery, the board of health met in regards to young Gertrud’s funeral. With a heavy heart, it was decided not to allow a public one, citing that it was “better for the community” when the risk of transmission still existed with the Sippel family members. Shortly thereafter, on December 15^th, after having thoroughly inspected the premises, the board declared the danger to the community over, and allowed Christian Sippel to open his store again. 

   As we have seen in both of these cases, along with the much more severe Spanish Flu pandemic of a little more than a 100 years ago, Mokena survived these tests of perserverance and emerged resiliently. With a little help from the fighting spirit of our forefathers, we will again in 2020. 

An Introduction

Hello reader, my name is Matt Galik. I'm a lifelong resident of Mokena, (the greatest place on earth) a member of the Will County Historic Preservation Commission, and the author of Images of America: Mokena and The 1926 Orland Park Murder Mystery, as well as numerous publications for the Will County Historical Society.

We live in a thoughtful, reflective time, where looking at our past is more important than ever. Therefore, I'd like to announce the birth of this blog, which is the e-version of my column on local history that ran in the Mokena Messenger for 11 years. I aim to update it once or twice a month. I invite you to join me on a trip through time, as we explore the people, places, and events of our community's heritage. 

Happy reading! If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me at any time at matthewgalik1852@gmail.com.