As World War I was winding down in the spring of 1918, a strain of influenza unlike any seen before began to take lives. The wartime Allied and Central Powers nations had censors that suppressed the dissemination of that news, fearful of affecting morale. Spain, a neutral country during that war, freely reported on the flu’s deadly effects. As a result, the flu became known as “the Spanish Flu,” based on the information source, though it is still unclear as to where it may have first started. (The first case reported in the United States was on March 11th, 1918.) More than 100 years later the novel coronavirus, COVID-19, made its way into the United States. A political decision was made to downplay the danger of the virus; as of this writing, that decision has contributed to the death of more than 372,000-plus people from COVID-19 and its effects.
One of my close friends has “hunkered down” in her home since March 2020. Her son brings her groceries, and enters her house wearing a mask. He places her bags on the table and leaves without hugging his mother. She wipes down the packages with antibacterial wipes and stores her wares. She and her close family members are appropriately cautious, though it must put an emotional strain on her to have no human physical contact. But even with strict antibacterial protocols in place, people can still get infected. My nephew is a nurse, and his wife is a physician; the two of them, along with their son, are survivors of exposure to, and infection with, COVID-19. A good friend in the St. Louis, Missouri area was infected, along with her husband and their young son (though not the youngest child, the daughter).
I called my sister, an award-winning journalist, to ask her if she was going to get the vaccine. Her response was, “Yep.” I asked her because she and I are aware of the co-opting of Henrietta Lacks’ cancerous cervical cells, which proved to be “immortal,” for research, and the Tuskegee experiments where African-Americans with syphilis had treatment withheld (without their knowledge) so that doctors could study the effects of the disease. These are but two of the many documented instances of medical malfeasance against African-Americans. But my sister and I agree, as do our families: We will be vaccinated. There are procedures in place that would make discrimination problematic. My nephew told his mother that each vial of the vaccine has 5 doses; if someone wanted to give a placebo, or a damaging dose of something else, it would be very difficult.
Some of my social media contacts developed from my passion for a particular sport: pool. One of those contacts posted a diatribe that said something like this: “An illness with a 99% survival rate has caused government to shut down businesses and suspend our civil liberties.” That kind of simplistic thinking puts the entire country at risk. When Indianapolis instituted the mask mandate for public venues, another social media poster declared that he would not wear a mask. (I already know that he does not wash his hands.) A friend gave me a T-shirt that has printed on it this admonition: “KEEP YOUR SNEEZIES OUT OF MY FACEHOLES.” But it will take more than that to slow down and bring to a halt the spread of COVID-19. It will take all of us to commit to frequent hand washing and sanitizing of surfaces, physical and social distancing and when it becomes available, getting the vaccine against COVID-19.
If not, it will take all of us.
cjon3acd@att.net