SURVIVAL OF THE SICKEST

That Tickle In Your Throat Might Be A Nation

The story of how none of us should be here

“What did I tell you about coughing out loud?!” — by author

When my great-grandfather William Williams was a boy, a boy named at a time when words were few and worth repeating, he stood with his mother on the Southampton docks. They had 3rd class tickets to get from England to America by ship. This was April 1912.

Guess which ship.

As they waited, William Williams’ mother had one rule:

“Do not cough.”

Why not? I’ll explain in a second. But first, consider William’s mother:

Imagine a severe woman, born in a black dress. She’s tall, bonneted, and pissed.

In other words, she’s Whistler’s mother from the painting called Whistler’s Mother.

But standing.

Go look at the painting. If that woman stood up, you would run. Yes, you would. Picture a seven-foot mother in a strangling mood, a mother ducking through your bedroom doorway, her long fingers dragging on the hardwood.

That’s who was leaning down to say to William Williams,

“DO NOT COUGH!”