Tribute to 1878 Yellow Fever Victims at Holly Springs, Mississippi

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NedNickerson2010

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This is a video I created about 10 years ago. I thought I had lost it, but recently found it on an old flash drive.
In the summer of 1878, a severe outbreak of yellow fever, a viral disease transmitted by the Aedes aegypti mosquito, affected the southern United States. The economic and human toll was enormous. Over the course of spring and summer of 1878, the Mississippi Valley recorded 120,000 cases of yellow fever and between 13,000 and 20,000 deaths from the disease. The outbreak originated in New Orleans and spread up the Mississippi River and inland. New Orleans and Memphis were especially hard hit as were various cities and towns in the state of Mississippi.
One of those towns was Holly Springs, Mississippi, located about 40 miles south of Memphis. The cause of yellow fever was not known back then, and Holly Springs opened her doors to refugees fleeing the epidemic. As a result, the disease spread quickly among residents. Most of the citizens fled the town to escape the epidemic. There were many citizens who stayed to tend to the sick and dying, or because they had no means to escape. Over 300 citizens died during the months of September and October. The majority of those who died were buried in the city cemetery, Hill Crest Cemetery. Only about 100 graves were marked. The rest have been lost to time.
I created this video as a memorial to those citizens who died in the epidemic so many years ago.
[The music at the beginning of the video is the Celtic Women version of "You Raise Me Up." I could not remember where I had found the music, but when I posted it here, KZbin copyright let me know it was by the Celtic Women.]
Lacrymosa - do not stand at my grave and weep
(original poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye, modified by Howard Goodall)
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain.
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush.
I am in the graceful rush
Of far-off birds in circling flight.
I am the starshine of the night.
Lacrymosa, dies illa
Lacrymosa.
I am in every flower that blooms.
I am in still and empty rooms.
I am the child that yearns to sing.
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there - I did not die.