It’s Armistice Day, or Veterans Day, but definitely not Memorial Day. Sorry about that error last week. I could say it was a test to see if you were paying attention, but it was a faux pas, plain and simple.

It appears that flu vaccine is in short – or delayed – supply again this year. Tell me please, why a country which can lead the world in so many ways, cannot figure out how to have an adequate supply of flu vaccine since it’s not as though it’s unexpected, like a hurricane.

We’ve certainly given enough headline room to the avian flu and set into motion all kinds of worries, contingency plans, committees to study it and no doubt, some kind of bird flu guru will be appointed.

In October of 1918, my paternal grandmother, 32-year-old Abbie Brewer Kelley of Boothbay Harbor, was one of those who fell victim to the flu. In less than a week she was gone. Downeasters are generally quite reluctant when talking about family, but over the years I’ve learned that once her two daughters and son were out of her house and at their Gram Brewer’s, Abbie’s house was quarantined. I guess my grandfather was out lobstering. The children never could go back to see their mother. My two aunts were old enough to remember her, but my father was a baby and never had any recollection of his mother. Each week, the newspaper of the town, The Boothbay Register, printed the names of those who had died, and the names of places which were closed, including all public buildings and the schools.

This scenario was repeated throughout the country. In about a year, between 20 and 40 million people died. It’s a wonder we could fight a war at all!

So when November rolls around, and Armistice or Veterans Day, I think of the flu epidemic, which grew mightily at military barracks. That type of influenza attacked young healthy men and women – few elderly, and few babies. My aunts and father didn’t get sick and my great grandmother, Annie Hall Brewer, originally from Cape Ann, lived to be in her 90s!