In late February of 1960, my vibrant, bright sister Marcie was midway through her fourth-grade year when she caught measles from a classmate who lived nearby. Those were the days before the measles vaccination program began in the U.S. in 1963, and that year alone saw nearly 500,000 cases like Marcie’s. It’s a statistic that hits home harder than ever now, considering the recent resurgence of measles cases in the U.S. and globally.
I was just 6 years old at the time, but I remember the seriousness of Marcie’s illness vividly. The fear and concern hung heavy in the air as she lay in bed with a raging fever for days. Back then, house calls from the doctor were common, but this visit felt different. Our usually bustling home was eerily silent, as if holding its breath. When the pediatrician broke the news to my parents that Marcie needed to be hospitalized, the shock was palpable. Even my usually unflappable, cheerful mother couldn’t bear the weight of the moment and fainted right before us.
