In late February of 1960, my vibrant, clever sister Marcie was halfway through her fourth-grade year when she caught measles from a classmate who lived nearby. That year, nearly 500,000 cases were reported before the measles vaccination program began in the U.S. in 1963. Sadly, Marcie’s case was one of those statistics.
Even now, decades later, Marcie’s memory weighs heavily on my mind, especially with the recent resurgence of measles cases both in the U.S. and worldwide.
I was just six years old at the time, but I remember the seriousness of Marcie’s illness vividly. She had been confined to her bed for days with a raging fever. While house calls from doctors were common back then, this visit felt different. Our home was eerily quiet as the pediatrician delivered the news to my parents that Marcie needed to be hospitalized.
The shock of it all was too much for my normally resilient mother, who fainted right in front of us. It was a moment that shook our family to its core, and the word “measles” still sends shivers down my spine to this day.
