Covid and the Train of History

Lessons From the Past, Hope for the Future

I’m writing this on Saturday March 6, 2021. Exactly one year ago — on March 6, 2020 — I wrote my first Covid post.

Everybody has their own story of how they realized what Covid was going to be.

For me, it started in late February as friends and colleagues in New York City and Italy sent out deeply frightening first-hand reports about what they were seeing: every night my in-box filled up with horror.

For me, it solidified on March 2. I had taken a quick trip to Seattle. When I flew out on Feb 28, they had no Covid cases (I checked before my trip). By the time I left Seattle on March 2, five people were dead and then thirteen. I remember my heart went sideways in my chest when I saw the empty TSA line at the Seattle airport.

On Friday March 6 I read another horrid email from Italy about rationing ventilators. On the street, life proceeded apace. In my living room all I could hear was the enormous shrieking of a big giant locomotive heading straight for everyone I loved.

In some kind of social media desperation, I wrote a post to my neighbors on my town’s Facebook list:

“My Arlington friends, there is now absolutely no question that we are facing a major life-altering epidemic and all of our lives are going to be changed for a while and for a few of us our lives are going to be threatened. With that in mind I feel compelled to post that the CDC is now recommending that older adults with major medical issues (heart, lung, and kidney disease) “stay at home as much as possible.”

“PLEASE start checking on your neighbors and each other. This is not a test.”

In the ensuing weeks I wrote a couple of “informational” and “OMG Stay Home!” posts. I kept expecting the CDC or somebody would step forward and explain the science of what we going through, but that never really happened so I stayed.

And here we are, 52 posts later. And 520,000 deaths. And ten million people unemployed and eight gazillion divorces and ten jillion kids who more or less lost a year and such a surge in anti-depressant prescriptions. So much anguish. But here we are.