At the beginning of the 20th Century, a global public health
crisis hit Chicago—a widespread outbreak of tuberculosis. The highly contagious
respiratory disease spread easily from person to person and attacked the lungs.
Without a vaccine or a cure, doctors attempted to treat positive cases with
sunshine, fresh air and by quarantining the sick away from the general public.
Chicagoans who couldn’t afford to go to a private facility were sent to the Municipal
Tuberculosis Sanitarium in Peterson Park, which back then was at
At the age of 12, Lillie Campbell was taken away from her family and
quarantined at the MTS, where she remained for three years in the 1950s. She’s now
74, and she says that experience stayed with her and even inspired her to go into
While some Chicagoans are showing signs of quarantine
fatigue after just two months under the Illinois stay-at-home
order, Campbell recounts what it was like to live through the TB outbreak and how it
has prepared her for the pandemic the world is living through today.
What follows is an edited transcript of Campbell’s recent interview with
How did you find out you had TB?
It was a very ‘hush hush’ disease—you didn't talk about it if you had it.
You were considered very lowly, very unclean, like you were dirty. I think my
teacher was one of the first people to begin to notice [I was sick] and they didn't
let me go back to school. The thing I do remember most was the doctor who treated
me, and he said to my mother, ‘I've seen this before.’
My mother was just heartbroken. She didn't cry, but she was very visibly
shaken. [The doctor] let me spend one last night with my mother and my brothers and
sisters. He explained to her that the whole family would have to be
She had to bring me to [the sanitarium] that next morning. We didn't talk
the whole way. There was really nothing much to say.
What was it like to be in quarantine at the
MTS?
I was there from when I was 12 until I was 15. I was isolated. You couldn't
go outside. Your nurses were afraid of you. They were very kind to me as long as my
mother was standing there, but the moment she left, all hell broke loose. And we had
to learn quickly—you're on your own. And I had to realize that it's either do or
You had to get cards that had certain color codes—like everybody strived to
get a green one [because] that meant you could go outside. You could not socialize
with other people, other children, so you grew up very fast.
What kept you going?
You know, I’ll never forget that my dad--he sent me a poem. It was called
“If” by Ruyard Kipling. And he wrote it out by hand and I'll never forget it. And it
If you can meet with triumph and disasters and treat those
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting...or in being hated
don’t give way to hating.
The whole thing was just encouraging, just the fact that he said don't hate
someone because they hate you, to take a disaster and make it the best that you can.
The whole thing spoke to me because I needed encouragement. I needed to know that
what I was going through wasn't the end of me and I had to faith in what my parents
had given me and have faith in God and to hold on. And I got through. So that part
Given your experience, what advice do you have for
people?
We're acting like we're in a barbaric age. We're mad. We want to blame the
mayors and the governors. We want to stand at city halls with guns.
You need to learn to sit quietly [and] just do what you need to do. This
isn't gonna last forever. It's gonna get better. If you sit back and say, ‘OK. I'm
in this. I don't like it, but it's gonna be okay. I just gotta hold on. I'm almost
at the door ... And after a while, we'll be OK.’
This isn't just the United States’ problem—this is the world's problem.
Wherever it came from, whoever started it ... it doesn't matter. What we have to
do—and I firmly believe this—is to help each other ... But that's not what's
happening. It's every man for himself. People saying, ‘well, I want to go outside.
I'm tired of being cooped up. And then I want to go to work.’ So then when your
child gets sick or your grandmother or your sister or brother, then, what are you
going to do? There is no quick fix for this ... But the bottom line is, yes, we
should quarantine. We should understand that this is not something [officials are]
trying to take from you ... [they’re] trying to keep you from getting something.
We’ve just got to be patient.
But we'll never be the same. You're never the same after a terrible illness
or a problem or a hurt or loss. You're never the same and you're not supposed to be
the same. That's the point ... But it's all in how you allow it to change
The question that inspired this interview:
Curious City question asker Laurie Nayder was strolling through Peterson
Park on the Northwest Side with a friend when they ran into a park staffer. The
staffer took them on a tour around the park fieldhouse and shared that the building
and grounds had once been home to the state’s largest tuberculosis sanitarium.
Nayder wanted to know more about what went on inside the buildings still standing in
the park today, so she asked Curious City about the history of
the Municipal Tuberculosis Sanitarium. We answered her question in this
piece from 2018, based on the historical record and remembrances
of several former patients, including Lillie Campbell.
Monica Eng is a WBEZ reporter. Contact her at
