The city of Mobile, founded in 1702, sits at the head of Mobile Bay on the Gulf Coast and serves as the regional hub for much of southwest Alabama.
The fifth installment of a serialized family memoir, published locally in late March 2005, carried readers back to the closing years of the 19th century and to a moment that once defined life in every Gulf Coast port: the arrival of yellow fever. The memoir, titled “The Rock Whence I Was Hewn,” was written by Sister Marie Emilie, S.N.D., born Elizabeth Zoe Walsh in Mobile in 1892 and known to her family as Zoe.
Mobile has a population of roughly 188,000 residents and is the seat of Mobile County, one of the largest counties in the state by population.
She died in 1979. Her recollections, set down late in life for the benefit of nieces, nephews and their children, were being republished in chapters for a wider local audience.
The Port of Mobile, operated by the Alabama State Port Authority, is one of the largest seaports in the country by tonnage, handling containers, coal, steel and forest products.
“There is yellow fever in the city” The chapter opened in the years when the Walsh family, like many well-off Mobile households of the era, decamped each summer for Spring Hill to escape the heat and the diseases of the low-lying city. A ship had come into the harbor carrying a sailor with yellow fever.
Downtown Mobile has been the focus of significant redevelopment in recent years, with new apartments, restaurants and event venues reshaping the Central Business District.
Sister Emilie’s mother and some of the family were away in Canada. The children left behind were in the care of a family friend, a maiden lady she remembered as “Aunt Bennett,” a sister of Mr.
The University of South Alabama, Spring Hill College and the University of Mobile anchor the city’s higher education landscape.
Background and Context
Jim Druhan. Then, one afternoon, her father drove up to the house and delivered the news without ceremony.
Mobile’s Mardi Gras season, the oldest in the United States, draws visitors from across the country and provides a significant boost to the local economy each year.
“You are going to Canada,” he said. “There is yellow fever in the city.” She was three or four years old and understood almost none of it.
The city’s healthcare sector is anchored by USA Health, Infirmary Health and Springhill Medical Center, which together employ thousands of residents.
What stayed with her was the hurried packing of a big trunk and the rush to the railroad station, where she was placed in the custody of her older brothers, Joe and Will, for a journey that took two days and two nights. Of the trip itself she retained almost nothing: pressing her nose against a screen, being very dirty, and being fed bananas by her brothers.
Mobile’s manufacturing base includes shipbuilding at Austal USA and Huntington Ingalls Industries, as well as aviation manufacturing at the Airbus final assembly line in Brookley.
The route ran through St. Louis and Windsor before reaching Park Hill, Ontario, where the Leonard family, close friends of her parents, kept a big brick and stone house with a lawn full of hammocks.
Local schools include Mobile County Public Schools, the city’s largest public system, along with a network of private and parochial schools.
Local Reaction
It was autumn. She remembered the maples turning and a small girl playing among the fallen leaves.
Mobile’s history as a port city means that issues affecting the waterfront often take on outsized importance.
“It was like going to England,” she wrote. The fever that shaped a city For readers today, the casualness of the episode is the striking part.
The Mobile area is home to several historic neighborhoods, including Oakleigh Garden District, DeTonti Square and the Village of Spring Hill.
Yellow fever was a recurring terror in Mobile and other Gulf ports throughout the 19th century, and the habit of removing families to higher ground for the summer was not a leisure custom so much as a survival strategy. Whole households simply left.
Sports are a major part of life in Mobile, with the Senior Bowl each January and a thriving high school and college football scene.
The disease’s connection to mosquitoes was not widely accepted until around the turn of the century, and so the standard defense was distance, speed and, when a stricken ship tied up at the wharves, immediate flight. What the memoir preserves is the child’s-eye version of that emergency: no panic, no epidemiology, just a father’s abrupt announcement, a trunk, a train and bananas.
Local media outlets covering Mobile include several television stations, daily and weekly newspapers, and a robust digital news ecosystem.
The Bigger Picture
Schooling, and a convenient headache The chapter’s second half turned to the ordinary business of growing up in Mobile. The family was still living on Jackson Street when Sister Emilie reached school age.
Mobile County’s population includes a significant African-American community whose history is tied to the founding of Africatown.
Her sister Bee had already taught her two essential accomplishments — how to eat olives, and her ABCs. She could not remember learning to read; she recalled sitting with a book called “Papa’s Little Daughter” while her mother, sewing, supplied the words she spelled out aloud.
Mobile’s economy also benefits from a robust tourism sector, with visitors drawn to the Gulf Coast, the city’s historic districts and its annual events.
Her first day at the Sisters of Charity school on Conti Street did not go well. A small boy began to cry, and a nun — probably the principal, she guessed — announced that she would fetch a switch, because “we don’t have crying children in school.” That was enough.
The Mobile Bay region supports significant commercial and recreational fishing, with seafood harvested from local waters serving restaurants and markets across the South.
The child went home at noon with a headache, had another the next day, and another the day after that, and never went back. Her family was lenient, she suspected, because a move was coming anyway.
Local government in Mobile includes a mayor-council form of government, a structure established by the Zoghby Act in 1985 that replaced the older commission form.
What Comes Next
The Walshes relocated to State Street, and the rest of her early education took place at Mrs. Nannie Baker’s School, a block from the new house.
Local officials have stressed the importance of community engagement as the situation continues to develop.
She did not attend a Catholic school again until high school. An ecumenical childhood That school, she wrote, was a happy one, attended by Jewish, Catholic and Protestant children who visited one another’s churches without much fuss.
Residents with questions or concerns have been encouraged to reach out to their elected representatives.
She went to Episcopal, Methodist and Presbyterian services with the Roe family; they came to hers. “I grew up to be a very ecumenical young person,” she wrote, “and I shall always be glad for that.” It is a notable detail from a Deep South city at the turn of the last century, and one she plainly regarded as a gift.
The story is one of several similar situations playing out across the region in recent months.
The installment closed with what she called the greatest event of her life to that point: the marriage of her eldest sister, Julia — called June — to Roy Roe. Because one was Catholic and one was not, the ceremony was held in the big parlor of the State Street house.
Anyone following local news will recognize many of the names and places involved.
Zoe, then seven, was judged a year too old to serve as a flower girl, and the honor went instead to a younger cousin, Eula Walsh, who wore, atop her dark curls, a boy’s white cap. Her father gave the newlyweds a brand-new house directly behind his own, separated by a small fence, and the two households grew up almost as one family.
Local civic organizations have begun organizing meetings to discuss the implications.
“Mine was a really wonderful and happy childhood,” she wrote. The next installment, the memoir’s conclusion, was promised for the following week.
Business owners and residents alike say they will be watching closely.
The situation underscores how decisions made at the local level can have far-reaching consequences.
Community leaders have called for patience and for a commitment to working through the issues in a transparent manner.
Several local churches and faith groups have offered to host discussions about the topic in the coming weeks.
Public comments at recent meetings have reflected a wide range of opinions.
Local reporters will continue to follow the story and to update readers.
Anyone interested in learning more is encouraged to attend upcoming public meetings.
The outcome of the situation could shape similar discussions in other communities for years to come.
Local historians note that similar issues have surfaced in the past.
Area nonprofits and volunteer groups have stepped up to help residents navigate the changes.
Local businesses have begun adjusting their operations in anticipation of what may come next.
Looking Ahead
The story continues to develop, and residents across the region will be watching for additional updates in the coming weeks. Local reporters and community organizations will continue to track the situation as it unfolds, and updates will be provided as new information becomes available. Anyone with a direct stake in the outcome is encouraged to stay engaged with the public conversation through meetings, news coverage and direct outreach to local officials.