Review: The Black Angels: The Untold Story of the Nurses Who Helped Cure Tuberculosis by Maria Smilios
Reviewed by Deanna Oudelha
Being a Black nurse in New York City during the tuberculosis epidemic of the early twentieth century meant playing a critical role in the urgent race to discover a cure. In her debut biography, The Black Angels: The Untold Story of the Nurses Who Helped Cure Tuberculosis, Maria Smilios follows the lives of several remarkable women, each driven by an unwavering desire to make a real difference in the world. “I want to change the world,” was a well-known motto of Mrs. Missouria Louvinia Meadows-Walker, one of the many Black women highlighted in the narrative.
Smilios explores the profound impact and resilience of Black nurses at Sea View Hospital on Staten Island, following their stories over an impressive three-decade span. From the hospital's opening in 1929, both Black and white patients were cared for together in unsegregated wards, reflecting a progressive approach for the time. However, despite their reliance on the altruistic care of their Black nurses, some white male patients somehow found the strength to spit and curse at their caregivers in blatant demonstrations of racism. What might seem counterintuitive or even unimaginable to us today is vividly illustrated by Smilios as a reality for the Black Angels. Admirably, the Black Angels, unwavering in their commitment, also cared for prisoners of war with humanity and compassion, refusing to view them as enemies despite the broader social and political climate of World War II. Smilios’s narrative ends in 1961 when Sea View Hospital closed due to a decline in patients after the cure for TB was discovered.
In this engaging four-part narrative, we meet Angel Edna Sutton, a preacher’s daughter from Savannah, Georgia, who after arriving at Sea View in 1932 became a surgical nurse often working tirelessly in operating rooms where temperatures reached nearly 108 degrees in the summer. Another Angel, Missouria Meadows-Walker of Clinton, South Carolina, came to Sea View Hospital at the youthful age of twenty-four. Missouria worked in the men’s ward where patients taunted and threatened her as she bathed and cared for them. The environment was grim to the point that patients bet on who would die next. As many of the nurses did, Missouria found strength in her faith, singing “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” while she bathed the corpses of her patients who had passed away from sickness.
Featuring more than twenty black-and-white historical photographs, Smilios’s narrative offers readers an intimate glimpse into Sea View Hospital, enhanced by thorough, thoughtful research. Often referred to as the “Pest House”—partly due to Staten Island residents believing the Black nurses carried contagions on their clothes and partly due to the hospital housing both Nazi POW and criminal patients—the name Sea View Hospital was misleading for those not intimately familiar with the realities of the unsanitary work that took place inside. Smilios writes:
The job was dangerous and so was Sea View. Doctors performed surgery and then breezed through the recovery rooms on their rounds, leaving the nurses bedside to contend with the clumps of phlegm, blood and vomit, and all the bodily fluids that tossed the [TB] microbe into the world. A single sneeze blasted forty thousand infected droplets twenty-seven feet into the air at a hundred miles an hour, and a cough sent out three thousand of them.
Within such a hellscape, Black nurses at Sea View were also meticulously collecting patient data on treatment efficacy, data that ultimately led doctors to a tuberculosis treatment that finally worked: Isoniazid, a tuberculosis treatment still used today. “Their work was masterful,” says pathologist Edward Robitzek. Because of their dedication, patients recovered and TB was kept under control, leading to the closure of the hospital.
In a style that is both electric and engaging, Smilios invites readers into necessary conversations about the intersections of racism and sexism in American healthcare in the early twentieth century. Unlike many narratives about medical discoveries that center around male doctors and scientists, this story places the nurses at the frontlines of the tuberculosis battle. When it came to new tuberculosis trial vaccines, Smilios writes, “No one was more qualified than [Sea View] nurses to assist [Dr.] Robitzek and the other doctors.” Like me, readers will begin to wonder about how American societies develop healthcare plans and facilities, what the ethics and motivations are behind hiring nursing staff, why it is important for Americans to invest in accessible and inclusive medical treatments, and how racism and discrimination influence the private lives of Black healthcare workers.
Reading The Black Angels was an inspiring experience for me and will be for other readers, too. As a white woman living in twenty-first century America, I know that I will never understand what life was like for the Black Angels; however, the substance of their example, of resilience in the face of adversity, lingers with me still, as I believe it will for anyone who picks up this book. Perhaps most impressive of all, Smilios highlights the critical role Black nurses played in shaping tuberculosis treatment in America, a story we do not hear enough. This book is an essential addition to the broader understanding of American history. It sheds light on the harsh realities of racism, discrimination in hospitals, and the incredible strength of Black women throughout history. It is a perspective that is both timely and necessary.
Deanna Oudelha teaches composition and rhetoric at the University of Nebraska at Omaha, where she is also earning her MA in English with an emphasis in creative nonfiction. When she is not teaching, she spends time travelling with her husband, hanging out with her two adult kids, teaching English to adult language learners, and of course, doing her homework.