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Politics Foreign Affairs Culture Fellows Program

Pandemic Diaries 14

Warsaw, Houston, California, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Alabama, Prince Edward Island (Canada)
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From Warsaw, Poland:

I’m a 22 year old Catholic, and a history student at the University of Warsaw.

As far as I remember, the first time I heard of the coronavirus was in December. I did not use to pay closer attention to such news. A disease somewhere in China was too abstract and remote for me. I am not particularly interested in Far East affairs and I did not have even a slightest suspicion that the epidemic would eventually turn into a truly global phenomenon. I thought that such things cannot happen. Not in 21st century, not in Europe (even though I do not trust our public healthcare system very much). In this case I was absolutely unconscious, yet very zealous, confessor of the “end-of-history” myth, which, in the most of other cases, I strongly oppose.

Three months later, the virus vehemently entered Poland. The first case of coronavirus infection was reported on March 4th. But even before, the atmosphere in the society was quite nervous. The institutions reacted quickly. On March 10th the University of Warsaw was shut down, a few days later a wider, but not as radical as in Italy, lockdown was imposed by the government. Nowadays, most of shops (except those providing items of everyday need and medicines) are not working. People cannot leave their homes without necessity and they cannot gather outside in groups bigger than 2 people. Some of the lectures at the University are organised online, the other are to be held after situation comes back to normal (what de facto means that in this year I will have shorter, or no at all, vacation).

The socioeconomical situation is extremely fragile. Whoever can works from home, some have to go to work as if nothing was happening (e.g. postmen, public transport drivers, grocery stores salespersons). Many others do not work at all, and since labour law in Poland is very leaky and does not protect many employees at all, this means that numerous people suddenly lost their jobs and all income. The government decided to not to give strong support to the employees, so even more people will fall in appalling socioeconomical conditions. Seven in ten employers in Poland are planning to introduce further, massive layoffs. Many workers’ rights have been suspended (e.g. employers are now allowed reduce salaries and extend working day to 12 hours without even consulting employees). Young people, such as me, who are particularly vulnerable economically (this is the time we are entering the labour market) are seriously afraid if we are coming back to massive unemployment and ruthless capitalism in the 19th century style. Due to this social tensions are rising to even higher level.

Because of society’s discipline, the virus spreads definitely slower than it did in other countries. Nevertheless, every day the police finds a few people who disobey quarantine. One of my friends who lives in Cracow was probably infected in such a way. One of her neighbours recently came back from abroad but lived as if nothing was happening – went shopping and met with friends. Yesterday it came out that he is infected, so the whole building is under quarantine now.

All this makes me feel really anxious about the future. Initially, I was even excited in a peculiar way. As a historian, I thought that this epidemic is probably the first major event in my fully conscious life that schoolchildren will learn about in the future; that the history is happening here and now (sounds silly, but that is how it was). I have never felt any kind of panic. To be honest, even today I am not sure whether I am just a good, calm and obedient, citizen or rather my mind simply has not processed all these facts. But now such calmness is slowly running away. Nevertheless, I try to keep my spirit up.

There are, however, some positives in such situation. My grandma lives 2 kilometres from me, which makes doing shopping for her a nice stroll and a good legal excuse to leave a flat once in a few days. I do not visit her not to endanger her health – I simply leave what I bought in front of her door (such unusual, contactless ritual always leaves me disturbed). My physical condition has, although, become so poor that even such short walks really exhaust me. I also spend more time with my mom, for what I had not had much time before. Online meetings with friends manage to somehow substitute the real ones. And another thing – more sleep! There is not much to do at home except work, TV or reading, so 9 hours a day became a standard. And last but not least – prayer. It is really weird to attend Mass via Internet, but it is still better than nothing. I try to maintain my form with spiritual communion, rosary and breviary. Such modest things give me hope that we will eventually get through it! So help us God!

From Leeds, UK:

Thanks to your warnings (and Mike Cernovich) we stocked up a few weeks before anyone else. Again, with your warnings I managed to persuade a few family members and friends to stock up on medicines too.

We’ve been on full lockdown for two weeks now and I’m kind of enjoying it(!) Partly and selfishly because no one in our social circle has the virus. But also the focus on family and local community is a joy. We stuck notes through every house on the street and now have a flourishing WhatsApp group. Neighbours are buying shopping for each other and sharing alcohol. It’s fantastic to see.

Usually, I work in the head office of a large national supermarket but due to high demand I’m doing 3 days a week on the shop floor. It exposes me to greater risk but it’s needs doing and I couldn’t in clear conscience refuse. It’s amazing
seeing the food supply chain in action, meeting huge increases in demand and quickly too.

What pains me most is the lack of humility that leads to repentance. Both in the church and society as a whole there’s so little fear of the God who blows us away like the grass in the fields. He has fired a precisely crafted shot at all the pretensions and stupidity of the age and yet so far we are like rebellious and stubborn Israel of old. How bad will the next wake up call be?

Church online sucks, evangelical church online doubly so (it feels too much like a show at the best of times) and with a 11 month old daughter then any spare time is invested in her. Prayer and Bible reading are squeezed in at the edge of the day. Still, I’m hopeful that God will be at work in this crisis in us as a family and throughout the whole world!

Every blessing, thank you for all your hard work.

From Prince Edward Island, Canada:

I’m in Prince Edward Island, Canada and this is what one local teacher did for her children. She made a snowman representing each of her 24 pupils:

A Prince Edward Island teacher has come up with a unique way to connect with her students.Rhonda Godfrey added some funny sunglasses to the snowmen representing her two educational assistants.

Rhonda Godfrey was out shovelling snow early Friday morning when the idea came to her.

“We were encouraged to reach out and connect with our students and I thought, ‘What better way, I’ll make my snow class’,” she said Friday afternoon.

So, in front of her Beach Grove Road home in Charlottetown are representations of the 22 students and two educational assistants of Grade 5D at Eliot River Elementary School.

“I have missed them,” Godfrey said.

From Auburn, Alabama:

I’ve been reading your column for a few years now— ever since I left my forlorn and short-lived early high school libertarian phase.

I’m from a town, really an incorporated community, outside of Birmingham and attend Auburn University. I’m a Southerner through and through and know nothing else really besides the South. More specifically I know nothing more intimately than Alabama, and I’m content with that. As you may know, Baton Rouge is rather similar to Birmingham culturally speaking. There’s one thing I have never thought about being quite important to the Southern cultural context, and that’s the human touch.

Being deprived of it has been rather depressing. My sister is a pediatric nurse in Birmingham. Things aren’t quite hard here yet on the medical field, and the hospital she works at is actually cutting back on personnel for the moment, so she has had a lot of free time, though not working as much. She got a puppy a few months ago and took it to our grandparents’ property the other day to teach it how to swim in the pond. She’s rightfully paranoid of carrying the virus, so we stood a good ten feet apart while I continued fishing. I hadn’t seen her since New Year’s. Every time we see each other, we hug each other around the neck. Not this time, even after not having seen each other for so long.

Even harder was that my grandparents’ home is just on the hill above the pond. I had been home for about 10 days now, fishing probably 2 or 3 times a day at the pond. Every time I fish or I’m in town I visit with them, but I hadn’t each time. Just yesterday, my father and I started the annual garden in the back pasture behind their house. My grandfather, who just turned 92 a couple of days ago, helped out, but I made sure to keep a garden’s length/width away from him. For context this garden is about a half acre.

Anyways, the hardest thing about this was that in order to greet my 90 year old grandmother, I had to stand awkwardly at the open French doors. I was reluctant, but she persistently insisted that I stand at the doors and talk to her about 15 feet away. She asked her typical pointed questions about my education, how things are at the same university she graduated from some 70 years before, etc. But, completely stripped from me was the years old tradition and ability to walk in unannounced, bellow a hello, allow my grandmother to kiss me on the cheek, and hug my grandfather around the shoulders. It makes me sad because I don’t know how much longer we have with them, even without the virus running amok.

I thank God for the ability to garden, read, write letters, FaceTime, get into the Word, etc.

There’s really no difference between online classes and in-person. Technology makes it easy for professor-student interaction. There are rumors that the University is using this to move in the direction of a permanent more online experience. That will be the end of the University. Schools like Auburn and LSU are fine enough schools, and you’ll get a solid education by attending them. But for a moment, let’s say all schools go online. That will kill or greatly reduce the recruiting abilities of old and storied universities like Auburn and LSU, and I’m not talking athletic recruiting. If a high schooler from say Birmingham has the test scores and capability of attending a school say like Duke or Vanderbilt, why would he choose a school like Auburn or LSU to study online when he can get a superior education studying online at Duke or Vanderbilt? But, I’ll tell you right now why that kid would go to Auburn or LSU over Duke or Vanderbilt as things stand now. Tradition.

His family might have gone to Auburn/LSU, the easy-going traditional campus life might be an attraction, the pageantry and pride of SEC football might be an attraction, his friends might go there, or traditional Greek life may be an attraction for him, in addition to a plethora of similar reasons. All these things which help schools like Auburn or LSU or Alabama or Clemson compete with more elite institutions will evaporate with a shift to online classes. These are things which have been cherished within families and communities all across the South for generations, and they would almost certainly up and vanish if the universities shifted all or a significant part of their curriculum permanently online. When I graduate within the year, I will be the 6th generation of men and women in my family to walk the campus and halls of Auburn. I could very well be the 6th and last to do so through no choice of myself or my future children.

An addendum to the part about rumors circulating. It’s hard to put into words, but if you’ve grown up around a community like Auburn your whole life, it’s rather easy to tell which rumors have credence and which don’t. I fear this one does.

From Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania:

Thanks for all of your reporting on this. I’d taken a Lenten blog time off (which, post pandemic, I’m failing with) but it was checking your blog that alerted me to the coming storm. My germaphobe husband’s reports from NPR didn’t convince me, but your reporting did, so thank you. I hope you and yours are and stay well.

We began our social distancing on 3/13 and have been ordering groceries for pick up or delivery. We even found beer delivery for free from Tired Hands, a local craft brewery. The only time we’ve been out was on 3/17, when my husband ran to 2 stores for children’s Tylenol, since it wasn’t available at the first. (Our 4 yr old has had 3 fevers in her life so we don’t stock medicine…of course the 3rd would come at the start of a pandemic!)

At present, we’re in a good place. My husband works as a special ed coordinator at a Philly charter HS, and he is still busy working from home. The school is trying to assess which kids have access (internet, laptop); they will probably start ordering computers for those who don’t this week. He is also trying to figure out how special ed services can be provided remotely during this time.

I work very part time for a yoga studio that will be closing late April. They are offering classes online and through Zoom, which seem well attended, though of course this small business is struggling more than it was before: workshops and trainings have been cancelled.

People in our neighborhood seem, now, to be social distancing. Initially kids were playing with children from other families. I understand it’s tough: we live in a neighborhood of shared driveways and relatively small yards, and if a parent is trying to work from home it’s much easier to send the kids out of the house. But, obviously, sending the kids out is not the point. In the past week, though, I notice this less. So either people are getting the point…or the kids are just tired of being out.

I miss Mass, which makes Sundays hard. I do pray a nightly Rosary through Zoom with the Philly Office of New Evangelization, which has been such a blessing. (Here’s the link: https://www.phillyevang.org/rosary/) I know my parish is keeping the doors open for prayer and Confessions are happening according to the usual schedule. While I could definitely benefit from the graces of Confession (we’re happy to be together…but this social isolation does bring out my worst qualities!) I worry since Confession will be offered in the usual, intimate setting…though our pastor is trying to establish a driveup option of some sort. I need to pray on this.

My sister, outside of Pitrsburgh, is having a harder time, day to day. Her kids are older (5th grade, 3rd grade, and 5 yrs) and their school (they’re in Fox Chapel SD, a well regarded one) is sending home a lot of work, even for art and music classes. The girls need to do this work on the one functioning laptop in the house, which is my sister’s work computer. My sister is working from home for her job-same hours, reduced pay on a sliding scale based on earnings; she’s not quite sure what her pay will look like-so on top of her work she needs to make her laptop available and oversee the girls’ work…plus make sure the kids don’t kill each other and get fed, dressed, etc. I’m glad teachers will still be paid during this time…but so much of this work seems like an unnecessary burden. The girls had to make up a rap about handwashing and do busy-work crosswords for gym. As I understand it, work not completed now will need to be completed later. We’ve been considering homeschool, and this busy work only seems to confirm our instincts. (Why don’t the teachers tell the kids to take a nature walk 30 minutes a day and/or read a classic book and submit a well-written book report for credit? But maybe this is just me-my sister doesn’t much mind…though she does feel overwhelmed trying to work from home and complete the school assignments.)

We are introverts with young kids, so we do have a lot of family time as a rule…but the extra time has been even better. My husband is enjoying spending more time with our 16 month old, who he doesn’t much see in his usual schedule. We’re planning a garden and (some days) scrubbing down walls. We enjoy eating our meals together. I wonder how my sister and other busy families will resume life after this ends-if they’ll still eagerly sign up for activities 4 nights a week plus weekends. Go figure, we signed our daughter up for her first organized sport this spring! It’s cancelled, and the owner of the business tried to convince us to do the program as a webinar. I feel badly-his business, which was all over the area, is obliterated in the near term…but we signed up our daughter to be with kids, not to learn soccer. As of now we’ve not received a refund. I’m not sure if we’ll let it go and consider it a donation, or if we’ll call to insist. (We also haven’t received access to a webinar.) These activities make money for someone and in this way they’re important…but they do (to this introvert) seem like a swirl of activity for nothing.

I worry how I interact with people during this time, largely those people providing a service. (Again, these interactions have been very few.) I cringed when I saw the woman at WalMart pick up who was handling our green beans (she refunded them because the quality was poor). I felt polluted by the man who delivered the beer: I failed to shut the storm door between us during our brief interaction and kept thinking of the CNN story my husband quoted saying deliverymen are very vulnerable since they see so many people. Granted he was taking precautions, too: he wore gloves layered with hand sanitizer. I didn’t feel polluted or polluting when having a short, socially distant conversation with my 80 year old neighborhood. I notice this attitude toward service people (essential and beloved children of God) where I wish they didn’t exist-I wish they were machines. I recognize and am abiding by the social distancing strategy…but how does treating others “like they have the plague” affect my relationship with them? And my relationship to myself? Perhaps, in the case of my neighbor, I was practicing love of other; the service folks are more exposed and so I shifted to self-preservation/self-love. Was this unmerited?

I’ve also been pondering my idea of God. I don’t like to think I buy into MTD stuff…but maybe I do, after all. When my husband found Tylenol (a need: our daughter’s temp was 102.5) I attributed it to a grace from my daily Rosary. Perhaps it was-Our Lady cares about each of us deeply. But…would she care less if God’s will were for my daughter to be sick? To go to the hospital? Even to die? It’s not pleasant to think of…but God’s will is God’s will: I can’t change it, I can only try to conform my will to it. (Prayer of course helps to conform my will to God’s.)

I worry my parents will contract the virus and die. Any trip to the grocery store (which, thankfully, they are limiting) can mean death…but what I’m trying to remember is: it always could. Until now, death has always felt far away. I’m 41 and, not only are my parents and in laws still alive, I’ve a very active grandfather (97) and a failing but lucid and present grandmother (98). I’ve railed in an intellectual way about the lack of tangible limits in modern life…but now here I am, whining because I cannot find dry chickpeas or old fashioned oats. I expect this system I know nothing about (food production and transport) to just work so, with the swipe of a credit card, I can-from just one single shop-find virtually any food I want. Maybe things will go back to the way they were, after this passes. Maybe not. At some point-in my lifetime or otherwise-the pleasant and abundant life I, at least, knew will change. There will be food shortages. Death will be more real and, on a more regular basis, come for the young as well as the old/those with serious and seemingly uncommon conditions. We will be exposed to the reality of limits in a visceral, everyday way. How can I carry these lessons of limits into my life “after” so as not to be complacent, and how can I grow in love for and trust in a God whose will is love and mercy itself…even if it’s not at all what I want?

From Philadelphia:

We got all dressed up this morning for the live streamed Mass at the Cathedral in Philly which we attended from our basement television area.

It strikes me as such a mercy that all the abuse victims are getting a mandated reprieve from close contact with the institutional church. Might not remote access to Jesus and spiritual communion be just the thing that allows us all the time and space to truly grieve the abuse crisis and pray for an outpouring of healing for the victims?

My husband is mainly working from home. Our children attend Catholic classical schools in the region which have switched pretty seamlessly to remote learning.

I’m grateful for the slower pace of life, the family togetherness. I’ve been doing a lot of cooking to feed the hungry hordes. With the teenagers at home all the time now the consumption rate is higher!

We’ve been playing more cards (Pinochle, Rummy, Memory, Go Fish), reading more books (Frankenstein, Middlemarch, Frog & Toad), having dance parties, cleaning parties, laundry folding parties.

My one daughter is catching up on filling knitting orders for her entrepreneurial side venture. Another daughter is learning additional songs on the piano. The boys have been tending toward all manner of outdoor play and Lego extravaganzas. We are enjoying evening softball in the backyard when the weather permits.

Family morning prayer and evening prayer have become the norm.

This morning pranks began in earnest with a theme of dumping cold water upon unsuspecting heads.

I’ve had good conversations with extended family members since gatherings have been cancelled.

Rod, thank you for your coverage of the pandemic, and for utilizing your blog to serve as a hub for connection and community in the midst of all the uncertainty.

You’re quite welcome. Compiling these Pandemic Diaries at day’s end has become a highlight of this interminable waiting. It does my heart good to hear from all of you.

From Southern California:

Not sure you need anything else to get you angry today, but the post on the Selfish Revelers reminds me, too, of the reports of wealthy NYC residents fleeing to the Hamptons/Eastern LI to avoid the virus, like medieval nobles fleeing to Florence to avoid the Plague.

https://indyeastend.com/news-opinion/covid-19/east-enders-angry-over-influx-of-residents/

(My “favorite” account was of a woman in NYC who tested positive, then took mass transit out to Eastern Long Island to try and get into a hospital there).

https://nypost.com/2020/03/19/we-should-blow-up-the-bridges-coronavirus-leads-to-class-warfare-in-hamptons/

And then there’s this gem justifying her hoarding, while wondering why others go hungry.

https://www.bustle.com/p/in-a-pandemic-how-should-we-be-22620538

I have a friend who lives year-round in a small town near the Hamptons, and he’s seeing some of the panicked hoarding first hand. Emails from big realtors asking if he has any places for “immediate rental, April-Summer”. Stores that are normally stocked for the low shoulder season population are not equipped for the glut of panicked wealthy city residents running in to buy everything that isn’t nailed down.

My wife and I are seeing this on a somewhat less exaggerated scale. We live in a town in Los Angeles County. It’s fairly out of the way from everything, and that’s one of the main reasons we like it. In the past few weeks, we’ve seen people renting moving vans and small trucks, filling them with food, water, soda, and whatever else they can grab from the local Ralph’s and Trader Joe’s. When these shops tried to institute caps on how much one could buy–a day late and a dollar short next to the Japanese, Persian, and Pakistani markets which instituted such rationing earlier and effectively–there were nearly fights. Obese women screamed, “Two loaves of bread per household?! Do you know how big my household is?!” while men stacked three shopping carts back-to-back-to-back and filled each to the brim. It was only this week, when a police car began circling the market that such scenes dissipated.

Unfortunately, some of the byproduct of this hoarding is being seen now; whole pineapples, squashes, and bags of oranges are left out by dumpsters to rot. Being a resident of this small town does not make you immune to panicked hoarding. They bought the produce not knowing what they’d do with it, and now it rots while others do without.

This is not to say that it’s been all grim. We’re experiencing scenes out of the Soviet Union as Ralph’s employees, recognizing my wife as a regular customer and a “local”, will whisper when the egg truck will come in, or will find bread or eggs from the back. Not only is this a sign of true community, but it adds to the surreal nature of these times. “Look, comrade, I organized some eggs and butter for breakfast!”

I hope you’re doing as well as can be expected. In the meantime, we use this Lenten season to fast and pray.

From a Mid-Atlantic pastor:

Here in my community/county we have finally had reports of a Covid-19 infection. Our church has not met in person for three weeks now. If we hadn’t implemented online giving some months back, we might be very nervous. Money is coming in, and hopefully we will survive. Some churches won’t, I fear. Our bills haven’t gone away, nor has the substantial mortgage that we have about a year left to pay on.

It is interesting to see friend’s videos online. Some of the younger guys are tech savvy and look pretty natural in front of their tablet of phones. Someone said the older guys look like hostage videos. I wonder how many preachers are online for the first time ever; the number has to be huge. Most of us aren’t that interesting. The Word is, but we aren’t…… The medium does not lend itself to a lengthy sermon; I’ve cut mine in half, knowing that many won’t watch even something short today.

I have reached out to nearly forty people last week, by phone or text. I have tried to connect with nurses especially. They are anxious, though some seem more than others, and I’m sure this has more to do with temperament than anything else. I have no idea how they feel except what they tell me, such as “It’s been rough,” or I’m anxious.” Or “The stress levels have gone up but we are handling it well enough.”

A long time friend, a one hundred year old lady lives in a personal care home not far from here, quarantined, of course. I don’t know how many residents or staff are there, but we found out a few days ago that twenty residents and several staff members are infected. It seems pathetically ironic that someone could live to be a century old and now face the possibility of death this way. I hope they protect her well enough, but time will tell. So far no one there has died that I know of, but you know they are all high risk.

A number of people I know are laid off, or on reduced hours. Friends who work in the restaurant business are seeing few customers, and fear store closings. It seems strange to see empty parking lots at all the fast food places. Walmart is a different story. They may be slowing down some now, but at first you couldn’t tell any difference, except for the empty shelves where paper goods were stocked.

One lady asked her dad how he was handling the stay at home directive. “Fine,” he said. He had gone to Dunkin Donuts to pick up some to give to friends, then went to a local grocery store and then out to eat at somewhere for breakfast….I assume McDonalds. Apparently none of these people watch television.

I find myself thinking of nurses, prisoners (I have friends who work in a state prison here), and all the people who don’t have work, those in the airline industry (I have some friends who work for Southwest), and grocery clerks and the like. Who would have ever thought that kind of work would be risky?

A neighboring pastor says he is going to hold services Easter Sunday, no matter what. I think he is frightened. Pastors are anxious about whether or not people will come back. I know that this particular church is already poor; the pastor has to work at a local garage to survive. I hope he is not foolish enough to risk exposing people to illness. Some pastors have had gatherings and seen parishioners fall ill. I heard today that some Liberty students may have brought Corona back to campus. Crazy! If Anthony Fauci is right, and we continue to be foolish, surely we will get serious about social distancing at some point. After many more have died.

I am cooped up at home with my wife and an adult son. He is mercurial, unemployed, with a history of drug and alcohol abuse, and plagued with anxiety and self-pity, and has always had a short fuse. I said to my wife recently, this is like the Diary of Anne Frank; a handful of people cloistered against their will, who don’t always like each other much. He has been off weed for three weeks. I don’t know if that has helped or hurt as far as his irritability is concerned. He has filled his mind with constant podcasts by some smart people who are all basically pot heads. And he has a Hugh Hefner view of sexuality, which both of us find repugnant. The least thing can set him off. He has used anger as a weapon for a long time. I threw him out of the house once (for five years), but let him back in to keep him from starving or dying on the streets. His presence raises the tension level at home constantly.

I have a ton of books on my ‘to read’ list, but feel restless and cannot seem to focus. You would think this would be the perfect opportunity, but I just can’t relax and enjoy any of it.

From Houston:

Many years ago, I saw English actor Anthony Quayle do a one-man show called “Readings from the Elizabethans.” One of the readings he performed was a 1593 poem by Thomas Nashe (1567-1601) called “In Time of Pestilence.” Quayle’s rendition was so moving that I never forgot it. During the current epidemic, I tracked the poem down on the Internet to read it again. Since Dr. Fauci says that between 100,000 and 200,000 Americans are likely to die of the coronavirus, it seems particularly pertinent. I’m passing it on to you.

In Time of Pestilence

Adieu, farewell earth’s bliss!
This world uncertain is:
Fond are life’s lustful joys,
Death proves them all but toys.
None from his darts can fly;
I am sick, I must die—
Lord, have mercy on us!

Rich men, trust not in wealth,
Gold cannot buy you health;
Physic himself must fade;
All things to end are made;
The plague full swift goes by;
I am sick, I must die—
Lord, have mercy on us!

Beauty is but a flower
Which wrinkles will devour;
Brightness falls from the air;
Queens have died young and fair;
Dust hath closed Helen’s eye;
I am sick, I must die—
Lord, have mercy on us!

Strength stoops unto the grave,
Worms feed on Hector brave;
Swords may not fight with fate;
Earth still holds ope her gate;
Come, come! the bells do cry;
I am sick, I must die—
Lord, have mercy on us!

Wit with his wantonness
Tasteth death’s bitterness;
Hell’s executioner
Hath no ears for to hear
What vain art can reply;
I am sick, I must die—
Lord, have mercy on us!

Haste therefore each degree
To welcome destiny;
Heaven is our heritage,
Earth but a player’s stage.
Mount we unto the sky;
I am sick, I must die—
Lord, have mercy on us!

From Virginia:

Thank you for being a voice in the wilderness. I have been reading your posts on The American Conservative for about two years now. Your book, The Benedict Option, was a driving force in my return to Christianity. A short background, I was been raised in a Pentecostal church. As I got older and studied, much of the theology taught about the rapture, salvation, etc., didn’t make sense. For about a decade, while I was in the Navy, I was avowed atheist. In 2017, I learned some valuable lessons, left the Navy, enrolled in college, and started a long path to Christianity. I am now part of a conservative Lutheran church. So many of your posts, references to early Church Fathers, and balance in approaching Christianity, helped me immensely. So, thank you.

I live in a rural area about 45 minutes west of Richmond, Virginia. My local university was about halfway through Spring Break when I received a message we were transitioning to online classes. Initially, the school was essential personnel only and the library had reduced hours. Everything is now shut down. My local congregation made the decision to cancel services. I regularly receive sermons and encouraging messages from my pastor. Our congregation currently does small communion services – no more than ten people, less than 30 minutes with several services offered on Sunday, and you have to reserve a space. It all seems sterile, but communion is very important to Lutherans. Those who are fearful or think they may be sick or could infect others are highly encouraged to stay home.

Today I had to run out and pick-up bread and paper-towels. I have tried to order curbside, Amazon, or through local businesses. Today I had no choice but to go inside and pick-up bread. I was utterly shocked at the number of elderly out shopping! Not shopping for essentials but for pleasure. I am hearing the same from family members who live in Alabama. People are not taking it seriously. Our rural county has had only one documented case of the virus. Fortunately, we have plenty of land between our homes. Yard work has been helpful in keeping the sanity.

I flew home from a quick trip to California more than two weeks ago. On the flights west I cleaned my seats, tray tables and seatbelts. There were looks of bewilderment. Just a few days later on my flights east, masks, hand sanitizer, and wipes were the norm. By the time I left California, many of the schools were closed for a few weeks. Now they are closed for the rest of the current school year.

I hope this email finds you in good health. This is just a snapshot of my world, just west of Richmond. I enjoy your posts and I am looking forward to reading your upcoming book.

From Sonoma County, California:

I live in Sonoma County, California, an hour north of San Francisco in “Wine Country.”

Sonoma County has faced 3.5 years of crisis since the Tubbs Fire in October 2017 when 5200 houses burned.

We went through the terrible smoke from the Paradise Fire in 2018 and last fall’s P, G & E power outages followed by the Kincade Fire—which forced the evacuation of 50K+ people.

When we were told to “social distance” nearly three weeks ago, and then to “shelter in place” 12 days ago, most of my weary friends had the same reaction: at least they’re not turning off the electricity and there’s no fire. How bad can this get?

We’ve watched media from the East Coast aghast—why aren’t those people staying home?

But we’re also getting outside to walk nearly every day of a beautiful spring. I’ve only driven my car twice in the last three weeks.

As a biographer, I’ve gratefully spent the time organizing my exhaustive research. I should start writing the actual book next week.

My husband has been instrumental in planning his international company’s response to COVID-19. We’ve been discussing this issue, constantly, for four months. The company makes one of the parts for the COVID-19 testing equipment and they are hard at work.

Half our adult kids are working from home while sheltering in place. The high-tech machinist works on a government project and goes in. Our daughter is a Los Angeles EMS training officer. She’s the one we worry about. They expect the “surge” within the next ten days.

Our Lutheran church, which has seen 1/3 of our members move away because of the fires, has jumped onto Zoom and YouTube for services and classes. Sunday School classes went live on Zoom today—and the children SS teachers had more kids in their class than on a normal Sunday. Our food ministry distribution went on as usual last week, with one 33-year-old carrying groceries out to the client’s cars. Otherwise, the church is closed.

When my women’s Bible study last met three weeks ago, I tossed aside the planned study and instead, we examined ten Bible verses about fear.

We were feeling shaky with yet another round of crises hitting us. But after reading and discussing the verses, we finished full of encouragement and hope.

I’ll end with the verse we all identified with: “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” —Psalm 23:4

From Pennsylvania:

I live in Western Pennsylvania and teach at a small Christian liberal arts college up here. My wife and I home school our children and my wife teaches part-time for an online Christian Classical school. She teaches chemistry, and they have live video conference classes (kind of like I am doing now with the Coronavirus).

We are generally fine. We live in a small town. My college sent students home, after a few days of indecision. I’m reasonably technologically adept for a political science professor, so my main complaint is that Microsoft Teams isn’t really designed for an academic setting so I’ve been doing video conferences with Zoom, to the consternation of my IT department. Since we home school, we’re used to our kids being home, though this has meant that normal social outlets like playdates, PE, Awana, and library visits are off limits. My oldest (8) actually cried when she heard the library was closed. Our three are all small, and we’re used to spending lots of time together reading, playing board games, and enjoying each others company. But we also live in what’s practically Siberia to my Louisiana bred self, so the all-day-indoor days are wearing.

One college employee has the virus, and a teacher from Awana (kids Bible verse memory church event) has it — my wife also had possibly the worst case of the flu ever, and she, I, and one of our daughters have had constant headaches since, so it’s actually possible we’ve all had it too. No way to know, according to our doctor, until they start producing the anti-body tests one of your other correspondents talked about.

For the most part, we are trying to live life as best we can normally. My wife stocked up on essentials in advance, so I think we’ve only gone to the store once in the last two weeks – out of toilet paper completely, plus lots of other things – the last time I went was the evening of the day Trump finally called it a national emergency and it looked like a Louisiana store before a Cat-5 hurricane hit. Weird too, the stuff people buy. Literally no cereal at Walmart.

The picture below is from dinner tonight. We’ve bought half a cow from a colleague the last two years -a bio prof that has some family land where they raise about 15 cattle. Best money we’ve ever spent. My wife is a wonderful cook who also likes to experiment – so that’s a loaf of challah, a traditional Jewish bread, that was a home school lesson a few years ago and has become a favorite, plus a flank steak (actually cube round in this case) sauteed with potatoes and wonderful sauce, plus oven baked squash and asparagus. It might be my 6 year old’s favorite meal.

We have a family tradition, it’s not in the picture, but we have a little jelly jar we keep on the table with popsicle sticks and on each stick is a prayer request – family, friends, sick relatives, persecuted Christians, daddy’s students. Every night one of the kids picks one and we pray for them. But lately the kids have all been praying for the virus too. My four year old tonight prayed, “God, we pray for this sickness, we pray that no one else would get it, and that you would help the doctors find a vaccine, and that everyone would stay home until then, and the sickness would go away.” Amen.

Last thought, I was really moved by the Texas woman who wrote in on your March 28th diary. I am sorry to hear of her difficult experiences in her fundamentalist church, and her (from how I read her letter) dissatisfaction with the weak sauce of the more liberal churches she has visited. As an encouragement – there is a vast middle ground in between – even in Protestantism. We attend a conservative ACNA (Anglican) church that is neither fundamentalist nor dismissive of the scripture – but is grace filled and loving. Keep looking. And even though the news focuses on dumb or offensive Christians (like the church in Baton Rouge that won’t close, or whatever stupid thing(s) Liberty is currently doing) there are thousands of wonderful churches in this country that are working daily to meet people where they are with the love of Christ.

Here’s one from Los Angeles I was going to save as a View From Your Table, but it seems just right to close out today’s diaries. The sandwich is a shrimp poboy. The beer? From our friends the Benedictine monks of Norcia! American readers can support the monks by ordering their special beer at this website; I just ordered a case for Pascha — hope it arrives in time!

Los Angeles, California

Please keep your diaries coming, readers. I’m at rod — at — amconmag — dot — com; please put PANDEMIC DIARIES in the subject line, and don’t forget to tell me from where you are writing.

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