Items

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  2021-08-15

  Pandemics, Wildfires, and Climate Change

  The Covid 19 Pandemic is and was a transformative event representing history in the making. The state of Oregon and particularly Portland witnessed a trifecta of converging crises beginning with the lockdown on St. Patrick’s Day in 2020. That summer was one of the hottest in recorded history and saw the city and state divided in smoke-filled chaos. The literal last words of “I can’t breathe” uttered by George Floyd were being chanted in the streets downtown as wildfires raged in all corners of the state, set against the backdrop of a global pandemic. Everything felt surreal and the tension in the city was like a powder keg. By the following summer some advancements had been made, the first round of vaccinations administered, but the same underlying issues were present in Portland. Houselessness, fractured political ideologies, and Far-Right and Far-Left members clashing in an invisible maelstrom on the Willamette River. My husband and I had adhered to the very stringent guidelines and protocol set by both the city and state to the letter. For a bit of context, my husband worked on the front line as a department manager at a grocery store and wore a mask for eleven hours at a time often six days a week for a year and a half, while I volunteered at the Red Cross and held down the home front. In August of 2021, we finally decided that we needed to get out of town, so we grabbed the dog and set a course for the Crooked River in Central Oregon. It was a two-week period of sheer peace and glory bookended by fear and anger at the negligence of fellow humans. We camped on the river and practiced mindfulness and being present every day, breathing deeply the fresh air ushered in by a strong breeze from the East. The “going there” and “going home” portions were marred by anti-mask protestors with weapons arguing about state’s rights, as death toll numbers were rising. The fires had already burned over a million acres with no signs of slowing down, and the reality of Portland’s social justice issues did not disappear just because we did. The experience left us feeling gratitude for the opportunity to explore, our good health, and open minds, it was our 18th wedding anniversary, in which porcelain is traditionally given as a gift. Ironic, given the fact that not only is porcelain extraordinarily beautiful but also incredibly delicate, a perfect representation of the state of things during the summer of 2021.
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  2020-06-04

  COVID-19 puts National WWII Museum 20th anniversary online

  This article details the holding of the 20th anniversary of the opening of the National WWII Museum in New Orleans on June 4th 2020. This is significant because thousands of people were supposed to attend, but now had to watch the ceremonies online as a result of the spread of COVID-19. This is an interesting contribution to the museum collection of the archive not only because the size of this event, but due to the fact that there are few military history museums mentioned in the archives. This is important to me as someone who studies military history, and because I was one of the many people spectating this ceremony online.
• 2021-10-03

  The Scents of a Homecoming

  My maternal grandfather passed away late last year amidst a relatively heavy pandemic lockdown, and our family has since tried to fill in for him in caretaking for my grandmother. If he could have asked something of us, I know it would have only been to look after her. He was that kind of man. He didn’t need for anything for time with his family and friends, and his utmost concern was her welfare, even when she angered him. Recurring and cyclic apprehension and uncertainty over transmission rates, long-term vaccine efficacy and inoculated antibody generation have forestalled several attempted return trips to my hometown. Data-driven doubts have eroded my wife’s confidence that our collective vaccinations will protect her aging parents from life-altering illness and death have prevented her from traveling with me, even though she wont readily admit that outside our home. In addition to everything else the pandemic has altered or taken from us, it’s also complicated my family’s efforts to care for each other. My grandmother turned 86 recently, and her birthday was also their anniversary. They would have been married 63 years this month, and we wanted to make sure the day didn’t pass like any other lonely Tuesday since his death. My cousins and I put together a birthday dinner at the best restaurant in town, and I traveled back to New Mexico for a week to visit and help where I could. The trip turned out to inspire a self-reflection on the power of scent in my life, emotions, and memory. *** I drove straight to my grandmother’s home on Blodgett Street. I pushed the front door open, and an unpleasant stink hit my nostrils. Throughout my life, that home had particular smells that transitioned over time. Everyone in my family but the children smoked cigarettes while I was growing up, and it wasn’t unusual for a blue-gray haze to hang in my grandparents’ home during family holidays. It wasn’t uncommon for their 1000 sq. ft. home to sleep ten or fifteen people when we had something to celebrate or grieve. Ashtrays often overflowed if late night poker games grew too intense to step away from the dining table. I recall one Thanksgiving from my early childhood in which heavy cigarette smoke obscured my view of the backdoor while I stood near the front door. Even through those early years, I associated their home with the smell of sweets. Baked goods, chocolate cakes, snickerdoodles, and sugar cereals, although I’m now surprised any of us could smell anything. I never ate Fruity Pebbles anywhere but their house. Word reached my family in the mid 80s that hotboxing the house was bad for everyone’s health, and they began smoking outside. Grandad hated that; he’s the one who paid off the mortgage, so he oughta be able to smoke wherever he damned well pleased. Still, he took it outside for the grandkids. Since they stopped smoking in the house, and especially since they quit smoking fifteen years ago, I associated their home with a particular and pleasant fragrance. I never placed it, and I’ve never smelled it anywhere else. It wasn’t solely the scented wax my grandmother leaves on warming plates for too long, which are almost always homey food scents, like apple pie. The scent of their home welcomed me back to a place I am unconditionally loved, missed, and wanted. My jokes always hit, my cooking never failed, and everyone was always glad to see me. They were also glad to take my lunch money at the poker table, which I imagine might have contributed to my perpetual welcome. As of this trip, that unique aroma is gone, replaced by a light odor of stale animal waste. My grandmother took in a low functioning chihuahua about three years ago, and the dog is slowly and thoroughly ruining all the flooring surfaces in her home. It won’t housebreak, and it’s incapable of turning right. Seriously. The dog might be a reincarnated Nascar driver. It only turns left. When it’s excited, anxious, fearful, doesn’t matter. The only emotional arrow in its quiver is a left turn, and the only dichotomy is the circumference. The dog can run around the whole room or spin in place, but only and always left. Lefty shit on one of my most important and reassuring emotional stimulants. ** I also stayed with my parents, who live across town, and we share a love of food, especially comfort food best consumed with big spoons or served in casserole dishes. Because we’re New Mexicans, that means a heavy dose of Hatch green chili goes in everything produced in our kitchens. Throughout the week, my folks made all the staples for fall: red beef enchiladas, fire roasted salsa, smoked burgers, and green chili chicken stew. While I associated backed goods and sweets with my grandparents’ home, I’ve always associated the aroma of meals with my parents, and especially the foods that take a day or two to get just right in a crock or stockpot. Bubbling green chili anything reminds me of the best parts of my childhood, and I have no unfond memories or emotions associated with it. I never caught a beating over the dinner table, never fought over a kettle of green chili. Comfort foods have historically made all the hurt and misery of the outside world go away. That’s their magic, isn’t it? No matter what the day and the world brought to your doorstep, the right foods and aromas improved everything they touched. ** As such, the consistent and predictable wonderfulness of my parents’ home helped buttress my emotions and the loss of the Blodgett Street Scent. The disappearance of that emotional, olfactory experience altered my perception of the trip. I regarded its replacement as a bellwether of things to come, a foreshadowing of my grandmother’s seemingly imminent decline into managed in-home care. My concerns over what the light stink meant conspired with her increased hearing loss, the occasional repeated story, and the often-repeated questions to erode my confidence in her long-term stability. Although she’s now 86, she remains independent and self-sufficient. There’s nothing she can’t accomplish on her own with enough time and naps between exertion. I think I’ve taken that for granted, though, and I should begin managing my expectations. Thanks to a left-leaning chihuahua, I have to confront my grandmother’s increasing fragility and forthcoming dependence. I regret having never attempted to define its source ingredients, although I doubt I could recreate it at any other time or place. In the meantime, I need to get her out of the house long enough to have the flooring scrubbed and sanitized. If you’re in the market for a left-loving fecal factory, please inquire within.
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  2021-01-21

  While holding hands husband, wife die from COVID-19 days after 70th wedding anniversary

  The increasing death toll from COVID-19 has devastated many families on a personal level. One instance illustrates that like no other. An Ohio couple that had recently celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary both passed away minutes apart, leaving behind seven decades of memories, five children, 13 grandchildren and 28 great-grandchildren. Dick and Shirley Meek celebrated their anniversary on Dec. 22. It was then when they innocuously told their children they were feeling a little under the weather. "They said to all us kids, 'we think we're getting colds,'" said Kelly Meek. But suddenly, things got bad and it was evident this was no mere cold. On Jan. 8, they both tested positive for COVID-19. When things started to worsen for both of them, the family asked for them to be together for their final moments. Hospital staff found a room for two beds and the necessary equipment. Dick and Shirley died in each other's arms on Jan. 16. They were due to get the COVID-19 vaccine on Jan. 19.
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  2021-01-11

  News Article: Where Arizona stands 1 year into the coronavirus pandemic

  This online news article from Catherine Holland of 3TV/CBS5 in Phoenix, Arizona, relays her assessment of key highlights in Arizona's pandemic history from the first anniversary of SARS-CoV-2's confirmed presence in Arizona on January 11, 2020.
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  2021-03-12

  Remembering Our Last Lunch

  On Friday, March 13, 2020 it was pouring rain. My co-worker/work wife/love of my life/bestest friend - the Ann Perkins to my Leslie Knope (very accurate if you know us) bought us McDonald’s for lunch. We jokingly called it “the end of the world as we know it lunch” and played REM while drinking Shamrock Shakes. We were in denial about what was happening around us. Two hours later, it was the end. We have not had lunch together, or been physically together, since then. (However, we probably outdo any teenagers in the amount we text each other. We’ve pretty much live tweeted ever minute of our incredibly mundane days to each other throughout all of quarantine.) Today, we both bought McDonald’s separately (for me, only the fifth time having fast food since shut down last March) to celebrate our year-versary of the “end of the world” lunch. One year later, it’s raining again, but it feels so different. A year ago, everything was closing down. Today, everything is opening up. I am thankful we’ve both received vaccination one, and although we are both apprehensive about school reopening in a week, the thought of seeing her face to face (six feet away and in a mask) makes me happy enough to cry. There is nothing I hope more for than for the efficacy of the vaccinations. I can only hope that the second Friday of March 2022 will see us together in my classroom, eating McDonald’s for lunch, talking about how we can’t believe we lived through a pandemic. A rainbow instead of rain would be a nice touch, too.
• 2021-03-03

  March Madness

  It is March and everyone is talking about how it has been an entire year since the pandemic began. For me, honestly this time has gone by very quickly. However, I am not surprised at all that it is not over. I knew in March 2020 this was going to last at least a couple of years and the effects would last for decades to come. It affected the entire world and people within the same government can't even agree on how to handle things. People are so divided on what needs to be done I don't see an end to this anytime soon.
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  2021-01-25

  A Year of COVID-19 in Canada

  This is a collection of photographs for the anniversary of the first COVID-19 case in Canada. The photographs depict the changes the country underwent in the last 12 months.
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  2021-01-19

  The virus death toll in the U.S. has passed 400,000.

  From the Article by Patricia Mazzei: More than 400,000 people in the United States who had the coronavirus have died, according to data compiled by The New York Times on Tuesday, as the anniversary of the country’s first known death in the pandemic approaches.
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  2020-09-11

  Altered 9/11 tributes underway as U.S. grapples with coronavirus pandemic

  The anniversary of 9/11 is a complicated occasion in a maelstrom of a year, as the US grapples with a health crisis, searches its soul over racial injustice, and prepares to choose a leader to chart a path forward. While many communities have canceled the 9/11 memorial events, many carried on with modifications. It's important to take a minute and remember the events that happened nineteen years ago. It's a time of reflection and remembrance at a time when nothing seems to be going right, we can be thankful for what we do have; starting with our lives. This year looks far different than previous years; commemoration ceremonies are filled with people wearing masks and standing six feet away from each other, but there is one aspect that has not changed, and that's the message of hope. We are reminded that we are one nation, though the good and bad, regardless of politics, social status, and race. We are Americans, we are strong, and we will persevere.
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  2020-06-05

  Love in the Time of COVID: Cheers to 10 Years!

  June 5, 2020 marked our 10 year wedding anniversary. Due to the uncertainty of things, we had no plans to celebrate. Literally none. Our extended family, however, could not let this moment go uncelebrated. We live on the same property as my mother and father-in-law, as well as my sister-in-law and her 3 girls. They decided to surprise us with a dinner for two at "Cafe de Gagnon." They sent us an invitation asking us to dress our best and to knock on the door of my in-laws promptly at 5:30 p.m. Upon arrival, our 3 children greeted us, dressed to the nines, with warm smiles. They proceeded to serve us a multiple course dinner, prepared by my father-in-law. While it wasn't what we had imagined for our 10-year wedding anniversary, it was absolutely perfect. And a great reminder that true joy is possible during these challenging times.
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  04/01/2020

  A couple who had to cancel their anniversary plans spend it recreating wedding photos in Animal Crossing instead

  A user shared a screenshot of a wedding photo they recreated in Animal Crossing on the reddit.com/r/AnimalCrossing subreddit. The virus canceled a lot of plans for people and people are finding new and innovative ways to still have a celebration of the event in the safety of their own homes. Video games have been a good resource for socializing safely for those able to access them.
• 2020-04-17

  Divorce in Quarantine

  A personal account of the pandemic.
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  2020-04-06

  Celebrating One Year During Pandemic

  My wife and I were married in April of 2019. We live just outside the greater Seattle area which was hit fairly hard by COVID-19. Following the state's "Stay-at-home" order, we celebrated our first wedding anniversary at home with the traditional eating of the cake(or cupcakes in our case) a year later. As you would expect, the cake tastes nothing like it did the first time we shared it but it gave us an opportunity to reminisce on our wedding day. While we couldn't celebrate the way we would have liked, we still laughed, ate a terrible cake, and made lasting memories.