Items

• 
  2021-09-21

  HIST30060 Footage of smoke on the Westgate Bridge during anti-lockdown protests in Melbourne

  This video was taken on 21 September 2021, capturing the view of the Westgate Bridge from Williamstown, Melbourne, as anti-lockdown protestors fill several lanes and disrupt traffic. The footage shows smoke coming from the bridge and all traffic brought to a standstill. There were also helicopters hovering and police car lights joining the scene later on. I was on a walk with a friend along the Esplanade at the time this footage was taken. It felt quite scary to be seeing aggressive, violent attitudes manifest so close to home. We knew what was going because of news updates coming through our phones. After the initial shock and fear at witnessing this happening on a few kilometres away, my friend and I walked the rest of the way in silence, too appalled by the behaviour to do more than shake our heads in dismay.
• 
  2021-07

  Tamarack Smoke Outlook, Thursday, July 22

  This is a report from the USFS Wildland Fire Quality Response Program outlining the expected air quality impact of the Tamarack Fire near Lake Tahoe from Thursday-Friday, July 22-23, 2021. The reports discusses the possibility of increased smoke in the areas south of the Tamarack Fire, which includes Camp Wolfeboro. The report also notes the fire on Thursday had increased over 10,000 acres in size from the day before.
• 
  2021-07-19

  Wildfires and COVID

  This article from the Associated Press discusses a study done by Nevada-based scientists, that have found a correlation between wildfire smoke and positive COVID cases. The study showed that "for every 10 micrograms per cubic meter of small particulate matter known as PM2.5 in the air, the positivity rate increased about 6.3% two to six days later". The study acknowledges, however, that the uptick in cases may be from other factors, such as a second surge, or students going back to school. Although further studies are required, the study done by the Nevada scientists may suggest that higher pollution levels can make people more prone to viruses.
• 
  2020-12-10

  Numbskull

  “Coronavirus has taken an extreme toll on my mental health and many others. This image symbolizes the emptiness in my skull. Feeling as though there is no brain at all. Mushrooms growing on the empty decomposed bits of what’s left of the brain. The majority of others, especially students right now, have little to no energy left in them. Unable to keep up with assignments and the feeling of overall helplessness. This does seem dark and scary but that is the whole point. No one is okay right now.” -Julianna Sheridan when being asked to explain why her drawing represents her mental state during the pandemic.
• 
  1919-02-01

  Analysis of 1919 Image of A "Smoker's" Flu Mask

  The artifact that I have chosen is a photo of a man wearing a mask, with a hole provided so that the wearer may smoke a cigarette without having to remove said mask. The photo appears in the Saint Louis Post on February 1st, 1919, and the accompanying text seems to imply that it may have been taken in San Francisco, as the city is mentioned in particular. Additionally, the descriptive text is followed with "- International Film Service", implying that the image and text originate from this organization. This would have appeared in the paper during the third wave of the Spanish flu, several months after the deadly second wave. The third wave mostly consisted of smaller scale outbreaks in larger cities, such as San Francisco and Saint Louis. The flu had already re-established itself as a major threat with the second wave, and so many cities had put laws in place to make wearing flu masks in public mandatory. These laws were disliked by many, some of whom held anti-mask gatherings and started movements to try to overturn the laws. We see similar things today, of course, as many people refuse to wear masks and defiantly hold gatherings with little to no safety precautions. This artifact raises a great deal of questions about the differing perspectives on masks and cigarettes over the course of a century. The idea of wearing a mask that accommodates cigarette smoking appears laughable today, as we now know the harm that smoking causes. Making it easier for someone to damage their lungs in the middle of a pandemic seems like a foolish idea. However, research into nicotine addiction and the harm that smoking causes was practically nonexistent in the early 1900s. Therefore, the only obvious harm that a smoker mask would cause is possible infiltration of germs and bacteria through the mask's hole. One thing I found while researching the possible source of this image is that men in particular felt uneasy with wearing masks during the Spanish flu, because they felt emasculated. Many advertisements during this time promoting mask use were framed in such a way as to hopefully soothe men's bruised egos. One could argue that there is a connection between smoker-accommodating masks and attempts to make men feel secure in their masculinity. All this said, however, there is also the possibility that this image was purely satirical. It was reproduced in the May 1919 edition of Popular Science magazine in an anti-mask joke article. The article attempts to poke holes in the rationale behind mask laws, with comments about how regulation cannot stop the transfer of disease. As I cannot find any evidence of the smoker masks being mass produced or even other photos of them, there is a good chance that the original image was made as a joke. As mentioned before, the image was sourced as coming from the International Film Service, a short-lived animation studio in the 1910s. This image could have been produced by them as part of a gag. As the version that appears in the Saint Louis Post appears to be entirely sincere, it is possible that they missed the joke and took it seriously. It is also possible that the Saint Louis Post used the image jokingly but framed it seriously, and humor has changed enough in the past century that I cannot register the dry sarcasm used in a newspaper from 1919. Overall, this artifact raises many questions and few answers. With that said, it still sparks a lot of thoughts about how people in 1919 dealt with their pandemic and how we deal with ours.
• 
  2020-10-18

  Smoke During Covid-19

  For me much of the pandemic has been an abstract concept. Our senses cannot really alert us to the presence of Covi-19. The exception I suppose would be the presence of masks but that is not a constant reminder. I have only worn masks when going in and out of stores. My sensory memory of the pandemic is four months of the smell of smoke. I noticed the smoke yesterday and again this morning. Since the California wildfires started in June there has been an almost constant smell of smoke in the air. We also get large grass fires in this area as well so there is usually some type of fire burning. I believe that the sense of smell can at times be a much more powerful sense than sight. I will remember the smoke long after Covid-19 is gone.
• 
  2020-10-15

  Surviving the Apocalypse

  I live in nice town in the Eastbay about twenty miles from San Francisco. Its population is around 70,000 and its downtown is home to dozens of restaurants and high-end retail stores. On the afternoon of March 16th of this year Governor Gavin Newsom ordered all non-essential businesses shutdown and locked down. The next morning I took a walk downtown only to find that the normally busy streets were deserted. It felt like I was one of the last people on earth. The normal sounds were all but gone and it sort of felt like an episode from the Walking Dead. For the next couple weeks and eventually months I walked downtown every day and sat on a bench reading a book. The business that I used to work at was deemed non-essential, so I was initially furloughed. Over time people gradually began venturing out and some of the familiar sounds returned such as people talking and the noise of traffic. Two months into the pandemic almost all of the businesses in my town were still closed. On my daily walk one afternoon I noticed something odd. As I looked up from my book, I noticed a large convoy made up of dozens of vehicles racing into the retail shopping district. Once there the drivers parked their cars and people began pouring out. Within a few minutes there were a couple hundred people breaking into and looting the closed retail stores. The towns relatively small police force was caught by surprise and within a half an hour almost every high-end retail store in town was cleaned out. There was no protest involved it was simply a coordinated raid. The next day on my walk downtown I noticed that every business in town had been boarded up and all the people were gone again. A little later in the pandemic the California wildfires began. I continued my walks with the constant smell of smoke in the air. On many days the sun was completely blocked out by smoke. The massive fires created a weird atmospheric condition. The smoke hovered at about 5,000-10,000 feet and it was as dark as night on some days but there was relatively little smoke at ground level. Now about seven months after the lockdowns began things are returning to normal and I still walk downtown every day.
• 
  2020-03-20

  Fresh Air, But For Only So Long

  During the pandemic, specifically between March and June, there wasn't much for me to do with work. I would help my Dad with his now unfamiliar school work. I did play games and watched the entirety of Parks and Recreation, but couldn't stave off the boredom. I needed to do something. So, I would go on walks. Sometimes I would go by myself and sometimes I would take my dog Carolina. She loves taking walks and it was something new for her with every walk. I lived in a rural part of town and the air was fresh. The smell of flowers drifting in the air, while also smelling cow manure as well. All I could hear was the sound of the birds, neighbor dogs and the farm animals. Carolina would stare at those dogs or animals, but never approach them. It was wonderful to breathe in the warm air. Cars were a rare sight and sound when I would walk along the asphalt with no issues. It was so quiet. It was nice to have the road to ourselves. Prior to COVID, people would be driving along our road frequently and we could hear them even from the end of our driveway. There seemed to be less garbage in the ditches too. Sometimes, I would see whole families walking along the road, probably wanting to inhale that fresh air that I was enjoying. Mid to late summer though, the air became thick with smoke. The fires around Washington, especially from nearby Selah, were suffocating and my walks stopped. There was even a fire on the ridge behind our house and I was worried that we would have to evacuate. The sky was muggy and the area was too warm, thankfully, since we all started wearing masks, we could cope with the fires. Mostly, I was disappointed that the fresh air I breathed towards the beginning of summer was gone. The picture I chose to share was a picture I took of the fire that started on the ridge behind our house. It's not the best quality, but that smoke was what closed out the summer. There was a lot to deal with this summer; COVID and fires mostly, but somehow, we made it. *Photograph, this is something that I took myself.
• 
  2020-09-09

  I Stood Beneath An Orange Sky

  Amidst the COVID-19 pandemic, August 2020 brought devastating wildfires to the state of California. Many of the Northern California fires were started as a result of the lightning produced during a massive - and rare - summer thunderstorm. The week leading up to the storm, I questioned the reliability of weather information as I had never experienced a severe summer storm in California. The night of the storm, I lay awake in my bed in awe of the sound of the storm. The combination of wind, rain, thunder and lighting produced incredibly loud sounds that lasted throughout the night. My family stayed snug in our beds. But when the storm continued into the morning hours, we decided to sit on our porch to take in the moment. The smell of rain in the summer was oddly refreshing. My kids were jumpy as none of them remember ever hearing thunder before. During a pause in the rain, we were walking between our home and my in-law’s home about 500 yards away from ours. The thunder hit at that very moment. I turned to look at my son and he was completely jumping out of his skin from fear of the thunder. Following each bout of thunder, silent lighting bolts shot across the sky. In the moment, we soaked in the beauty of nature. Little did we know that these beautiful bolts of lightning would cause some of the largest fires in California history. Immediately following the storm, fires spread across the state of California. While COVID-19 has completely changed life as we know it, we have found joy in being able to enjoy the outdoors. At the onset of the fires, even that reprieve was taken from us. I live directly between the SCU Lightning Complex and the LNU Lighting Complex fires, two of the first fires that erupted following the storm. The days immediately following the start of the fires brought record breaking days of heat well over 100 degrees. The hottest I have ever experienced in the San Francisco Bay Area. The region experienced rolling blackouts and even functioning air conditioners were so taxed that they struggled to keep the insides of homes cool. In addition to the heat, the skies were filled with ash. The air was so thick with ash it was difficult to even take a breath when outside. The outdoors, our place of solace, quiet and escape during this pandemic, was no longer an option for us. On September 9, 2020, I woke up and opened my curtains to face a brilliant orange sky. The color of the sky was unlike anything I've ever seen in my life. It truly felt apocalyptic. The air smelled of an extinguished campfire. And the overall feeling was eerie. The weight of the COVID-19 pandemic hit me the day that I stood beneath an orange sky, breathing in the smell of the fires ravaging my beloved state. How did we get here? Will life ever feel normal again? It just can’t get worse, can it? While I stood frozen in place, I heard the sound of birds chirping in the distance. This simple sound gave me the reassurance that I needed. We can do hard things. This too shall pass. I just hope it passes quickly.
• 2020-04-20

  Cherry wood and the smoker

  My submission to the Covid-19 sensory archive was about the smell and texture of cherry wood chips. During the first month of the Covid19 pandemic my father quarantined with my husband, daughters, and I. After a week or so of organizing, deep cleaning, and binge watching we decided we should find something else to do. My husband had been gifted a small wood smoker a few years ago and my father decided he was going to figure out how to smoke different types of foods. The first few attempts were less than stellar, with large flames, boiled water overflowing out of the bottom of this smoker but after another week he was doing quite well. He had ordered several different types of woods, chunks, and chips, almond and orange etc. I had not been a huge fan of anything he had done but it was keeping him, my husband, and my three-year-old entertained so it was fine. Finally, after his many attempts he came to me with mozzarella cheese he had smoked with cherry wood from our own trees. It tasted so good! I was thoroughly impressed with what he had accomplished. After that I helped him chop the wood and do various other things as he tried different recipes. Now anytime I move those wood chips around my pantry or smell the residual cherry wood smoke on the smoker in our side yard I think of that first month in quarantine. All the memories and recipes and the time in the middle of a pandemic where we got to slow down stay home and figure out how to use a smoker. I think that was a recurring event for a lot of people that were fortunate to get to quarantine with family. My family and I are typically terribly busy with various activities and jobs that we must run from one to the other and never get to have time to slow down and enjoy time with each other.
• 
  2020-09-14

  Wildfire Sunrise

  I snapped this photo on the way to work on Sept 14th. The smoke from several wildfires burning had drifted into Arizona turning the sky into a hazy orange. Usually driving to work at that time of morning means the sun is right in my eyes, but this morning, the sun was a weak red dot, indicating just how thick the smoke was, and just how widespread the wildfires are along the west coast.