Against all odds, I went to town this morning. I delivered Mom’s homemade super-deluxe handmade coronavirus masks to our daughter (who had been delivering groceries to shut-ins on behalf of Eureka Springs United Methodist Church) and went to the post office to mail a packet of masks to our son, who works online from his apartment in Fayetteville.
Mah Wahf (Ozark pronunciation for “my wife”) sewed 10 cloth masks as soon as the Feds made up their minds that us normal folks might want to protect ourselves when out in public.
Last Saturday, I drove to Eureka Market and Hart’s grocery store. At least half the customers wore handmade masks. Behind my mask, my glasses fogged up in Hart’s, and my cashier told me she had the same problem, so she could not wear the mask for her whole shift.
Today, after I mailed the masks to our son, and dropped the packet to our daughter, I went on to WalMart. Surprisingly, almost every customer had homemade masks, some looking like Jesse James, and we avoided one another. Half the shelves are empty, but I bought – not to stockpile – but to replenish and get fresh produce. A single WalMart employee, the pharmacist, wore a homemade mask. No other employees – stocking shelves, checking the door, preparing pick-up deliveries – were masked. Uh-oh.
My cashier in WalMart said her son asked if she had to go to work today. I do not know how old the son is, but certainly old enough to know how dangerous his mom’s job has become. The masked customer in front of me said, “at least you got a paycheck!”
What a conundrum! Would I prefer a paycheck or a graveyard? The cashier said she worked a 40-hour week, and paid no attention to the “media,” because that’s what might scare her. If she ignores the scare, she can go to work. She scrubs her hands between customers, but they ran out of hand sanitizer last Saturday…
I look at “the media” every morning when I get up. We don’t have TV at our house, so I read reputable sources online, the maps of Arkansas, the proclamations from Trumplandia and Little Rock. So far, Carroll County has only one confirmed case of Covid-19, which gives us a 51% opportunity for an epidemic. But, one case gives us a 51% chance of epidemic. I wear my mask if I must go out. I stay at home as much as I can. But who knows?
I want to see what the future brings. Andrew Yang’s guaranteed monthly income, and Bernie Sanders’ Medicare for All seem possible. Obviously much more of American life will be conducted online — schooling, health care, business, banking. Mom and Pop businesses will die.
I would like to be around to see these changes. I have to survive the coronavirus to get there.
My dad saw horse-and-buggies replaced by automobiles. In his lifetime, (1910-1993) airplanes transfigured into moon landings; radio and talkies transformed into TV and movies. He was exultant when a man walked on the moon. The Civil Rights Movement brought minorities into mainstream America, and eventually he admitted, as a career Army man, that Viet Nam was a mistake, glad that his sons did not go there and die.
2020 is a year like that. Many people will die, and they may not all be old folks like me, although I am acutely aware, that my wife, my brothers and sisters, their spouses, and I are all in the riskiest group. Carroll County has a high number of old folks and retirees. This number includes many of our friends, some of whom have endured health emergencies in the past couple years.
Covid-19 is here. Experts in health care (not our Fearsome Leader) believe that many more people identified as clear, are actually infected, and that this pandemic may reoccur next fall, and for several years thereafter.
It is inevitable that people in our community or our homes will get sick. Some will live, and some will die. These may include our friends and families, and ourselves. Good luck!
Kirk Ashworth