The major lesson from the pandemic: “We are part of a greater whole”

Latest in a series of posts on the coronavirus

Dana Grubb, “Vital Viral Lessons.” Bethlehem Press, April 1, 2020.

Up until the current COVID-19 pandemic, the two most momentous events in my lifetime were the assassination of President John F. Kennedy and the terrorist attacks on Sept. 11, 2001.

A third life-impacting event, the current public health crisis, has introduced an invisible enemy that has manifested itself very quickly and has taken many lives around the world while infecting untold others.

It has required adaptation by each of us and caused changes in our daily routines.

Despite the shelter-in-place orders and social distancing recommendations, in a way we’ve become closer. At least I have, with friends through phone calls, emails and social media. Some have reached out to me, and I am touched by their thoughtfulness.

A very dear friend brings hope, positivity and humor in her frequent Facebook postings, and I love her for that. I’ve been driven even more into the outdoors: biking, hiking and walking on trails and in area parks. I’ve noticed that many others have sought out the serenity of these natural places as well. I’ve had to adapt my grocery shopping to address shortages. Like many, I now carry hand sanitizer or sanitizing wipes with me at all times. In addition to normal hand washing hygiene, I now wash my hands more frequently, especially after I open my mail and whenever I return home.

I’ve chosen to do a takeaway meal once a week to support local restaurant business owners. And, I’ve noticed far fewer retail emails in my inbox as businesses considered non-essential are no longer operating.

I read local city government’s COVID-19 updates and watch regional and national news programs a little more closely, so that I can stay abreast of the facts and not the political hype.

I find not hugging anyone difficult because it is against my instincts, but I have complied with that suggested behavior modification. I miss that part of human contact tremendously and look forward to the day when a hug is once again welcomed.

There is a stillness in the air, less traffic, and perhaps a newfound concern for others. There seems to be a little more kindness and perhaps a hope for better days ahead.

I have learned a few things from this pandemic, and will likely learn more as it continues, peaks, recedes and ends. I’ve learned that if we adapt, we can survive. I’ve learned that if we receive good information and act quickly, we can make a difference. And I’ve learned, most importantly perhaps, that we really are not alone, even if we think or feel that we are. We truly are connected. We are part of a greater whole, and of each other. And it is that one-ness that I believe, in the end, will save us.

Deborah Courville contributed

“Your fate may be in your own hands”

Latest in a series of posts on the Spanish Flu

For perspective on our current coroniavirus situation, we are following the entrance of the 1918 Spanish Influenza, that paragon of pandemics, into the minds and bodies of Lehigh Valley residents who got their news through the Morning Call (the files of the Bethlehem Globe are closed to us at the moment).

September 28.

15 days after “arrival.”

When the Flu starts to hit the fan, the medical experts weigh in.

One can imagine this list cut out of the Morning Call and taped to the “ice box.”

Except for the advice to maintain what we now familiarly call “social distance” as a precaution, it’s remarkable how simplistic and commonplace the Surgeon General’s advice is: cover your mouth when you cough, keep clean, watch the temperature, get fresh air, chew your food, wash your hands, pee a lot, use clean utensils, wear comfortable clothes.

Flu 17

The “declaration” that the Flu is not new and that sunshine is the best medicine ironically masks what we now too are experiencing as a crucial problem: shortage of medical staff to treat the multitude of cases — a medical system going in to overload.

Flu 18

After this is over: the wage equality ordinance

Latest in a series of posts on wage equality

Gadfly’s “vision” has been radically restricted lately.

Restricted to immediate needs: how to get food, how to get toilet paper, how to manage till the latest “all clear” forecast by the media punditry.

He feels like he’s always looking at his feet.

“It feels like our life is on hold,” as a follower just wrote him.

But Gadfly is going to try to keep some focus on what to do “after this is over.”

In fact, he has written to some of you about one specific project.

What does Gadfly want to do after this is over?

Get a haircut.

He was part of that little recognized “generation” of teens in the 1950s who believed that the key to getting dates was good hair, along with the sweet ’49 Mercury James Dean drove in Rebel without a Cause.

Mercury 1

And he’s gotten a haircut every two weeks since.

Another thing that Gadfly looks forward to after this is over is resumption of discussion of Councilman Callahan’s wage equality ordinance.

Wage Equality Memo (1)

Watching this commercial this morning has Gadfly looking eagerly forward to the resolution of the needless gnarls in the discussion that preceded our virus-break and the enactment of a very valuable ordinance.

Let’s get it done!

You may have noticed that Gadfly is of an age in which he easily, unconsciously, gratuitously slips into the past.

The Flu starts to hit the fan

Latest in a series of posts on the Spanish Flu

On September 27, 1918, exactly two weeks after the news that the Spanish Flu had “arrived” in the U.S., the story lands solidly among major war stories on p. 1 of the Morning Call. Four Associated Press releases are now grouped in one article rather than oddly and randomly distributed individually as they had been. News about a major outbreak among students at Middlebury College — with one death and, for the very first time, a named victim — indicates to our local reading public that the disease has traveled outside the military camps and will be real for them. And Boston initiates the first attempt to thwart the spread by closing “all theatres, moving picture shows, dance halls, and ‘other unnecessary places of public assembly’.” The Flu moves quickly, with fully 50,000 cases in Boston in this two-week period (in contrast to about 40,000 in the past two weeks in the New York area).

Flu 15