Early Days of the Pandemic

The coronavirus pandemic has disrupted everyone’s life. We all have a responsibility to practice social distancing by sheltering in place and all the rest.

Over the past week, my anxiety about the novel coronavirus has increased at roughly the same rate as the virus’s exponential spread. I worry that my wife, our children and theirs could become sick. So far, I don’t know anyone who has contracted it; a person who works in the same building as me tested positive (I don’t know who and was told that we won’t be contacted unless we were believed to be in contact with them), and the friend of one of my brothers-in-law lost his dad to COVID-19 a few days ago. It’s just a matter of time before it hits close to home.

As far as impacts on me, they are relatively minor. We are fortunate: I still have my job. We have food. Our daughters and their families are close by so we can visit them (our son and his wife are in lockdown in L.A.). We can stay in touch with friends and family through social media. Our wine closet is well stocked (but is being depleted).

I’ve been working from home a little more than a week now. It’s an adjustment, but after a couple days I got into a pretty good groove. My wife Donna and I are readers, and we have plenty of books and ebooks. We have increased the number of video services we subscribe to (for Homeland, Schitts Creek, Outlander – let me know if you have suggestions for other shows). And we have been taking long walks in our neighborhood.

Many of us had plans for the spring or summer that are in limbo or have been canceled or postponed. Donna and I had made plans to fly out to Arizona in early May and hike down and up the Grand Canyon; that will almost certainly not happen. In addition, I had gotten into the Great Chesapeake Bay Swim, the annual 4.4-mile swim in June whose route starts at Sandy Point State Park, runs between the Bay Bridge spans, and ends at Hemingway’s restaurant on Kent Island. I’ve done it several times, and it is always a great thrill for me. I was training for likely my last go at it, but with all the pools closed and no opportunity to train properly, I don’t see how the swim will go on unless the date is moved to the fall.

Over this weekend there seems to be an ominous shift in expectations about the duration of this new normal, from a few weeks to potentially a few months – or even longer. I worry about the future of small-business owners – the local dry cleaner, restaurateurs, shop owners – and employees in every industry. This could get ugly and go on for a very long time.

But enough doom and gloom. This is where we’re at, and we will make the best of it. We have great examples of people who have thrived in adversity, and reminders of how to weather dark times. Donna and I have in our dining room a painting of the outside of the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue, with the iconic marble lions flanking the main stairs up to the entrance. Their names, given during the Great Depression by the then-mayor of New York for the traits the city’s citizens would need: Patience and Fortitude.