Discovery of remains a portal to different era

This week's news of the macabre discovery of human remains beneath floor boards in a Tamaqua attic is hard to ignore.

It shocks our sensibilities. It begs for more information.

What we know is that members of a Tamaqua family pried up a few boards and uncovered a box. Inside was a bundle consisting of old newspapers and a sweater.

Unwrapped, it revealed bones of a baby, nearly a full skeleton, estimated between 38 and 40 weeks.

The discovery suggests that a baby, perhaps stillborn or a newborn later deceased, had been carefully wrapped and hidden away.

This was done, presumably, in 1924 based on the date of one of the newspapers.

We don't know the baby's gender, identity or any circumstances of the death.

Forensic examiners say there are no trauma marks on the bones.

The only thing we really know is that something incredibly sad happened about 92 years ago.

And it provides a learning opportunity because the discovery opens a gloomy portal to a different era.

Sometimes it helps to look at the context of the times. People of the 1920s were accustomed to death in a very big way.

They had survived the great 1918-19 influenza pandemic that killed 21.5 million people. Add to that some 16 million deaths from WWI.

Life in the early '20s was a gamble from a health standpoint, too.

Disease was prevalent. Helpful antibiotics were yet to come. In fact, babies of the 1920s often died of something as simple as diarrhea.

Without availability of sophisticated medicines to fight common germs, human suffering was enormous.

Typhoid was a common cause of death and, according to Johns Hopkins University Press, up to 30 percent of infants in American cities died before reaching their first birthday. This was last-century life of the '20s.

None of these realities, of course, pardon the act of concealing a baby's body beneath floorboards.

And yes, it's possible the infant met with foul play. But it's also possible the baby died of natural causes. We'll probably never know.

But as we formulate thoughts and weigh judgment about what might have occurred in a busy North Ward neighborhood in the Roaring '20s, it helps if we try to understand dynamics of life in a different era.

Whatever took place, a woman found herself in a position where she felt she had no other choice but to conceal a birth, or perhaps cover up a death, or hide news of a stillborn infant.

Tragic circumstances led to that decision, even if we don't know what they were.

This event is something we just can't process. And in a way, that's a normal reaction for all of us.

We're human. We have feelings. We value the sanctity of human life.

The fact that we're coming to terms with this heartbreak at a Mother's Day holiday makes the disturbing news even harder to bear.

By Donald R. Serfass | dserfass@tnonline.com