March 2020. A month that will live in infamy. Debates will last forever about how long America kept its head in the sand. But we quickly realized that woulda-shoulda-couldas didn’t matter much. Once the dangerous truth was apparent, the experts took over, and political differences took a very abrupt back seat. We were forced to be unified against this unseen enemy.
Every time we checked the news, cancellations piled on top of cancellations. The timing of the emergency was both good and bad. Because it didn’t happen in the dead of winter, there were no widespread power failures, and although it was rainy, we were still able to get outside now and then. However, since school was in pre spring break mode, teachers and students were looking forward to an enjoyable week off, followed by final lessons and testing, leading up to grand finale celebrations. Suddenly, only the break remained, and with no way to travel or gather in groups, the enjoyment was questionable. Also, a new definition of March Madness put a complete halt on the basketball and baseball seasons for college students and fans all over the country.
One of the first indicators that our community would bounce back came as an unexpected surprise on that first Saturday after the virus news slammed into us. Bryant High School had been planning a grand opening for their brand-new auditorium with a production of the musical Mary Poppins. Rehearsals were complete, and hopes were high. They even planned to include aerial exploits over the heads of the amazed audience. Suddenly, on the morning after what should have been opening night, a social media post displayed a dilemma. The choir students had planned to sell bouquets of fresh flowers to the audience members as a fund-raiser. Now, the fragrant packages were all bundled up with no place to go.
At a price of $10.00, this seemed like a bargain for those of us who were trapped inside, staring at the walls. I jumped at the chance to help, and offered to travel to wherever the blossoms were located. However, the organizers of this pop-up plan had already decided to deliver them to those who offered to pay. So, before I knew it, I had a cheerful decoration for my kitchen table, and the Bryant Choir was a little bit ahead of the game. Win, Win.
When the school administrators began to cancel in-person classes, they immediately recognized that for many children, this would also cut out the only nutritional meals they were eating on a daily basis. So, while classes continued online, teachers and other school personnel began curb-side delivery for their students. This inspired restaurants, who began to promote their drive-through business and those who didn’t have a window, ran the products out to the curb.
One day, our favorite porcine hoopsters were celebrating a victory at the conference tournament, anticipating their next game, which was planned to be held in an arena with no fans, just players and officials. The next day, not only was that regional tourney cancelled, but all over the nation, Cinderella teams that had been shining up their glass slippers had to leave their pumpkin coaches parked in the bus-barn. No Big Dance for anyone this year.
The coach of our favorite Northwest Arkansas team was on a roll. Rather than sit at home sulking, he immediately began releasing videos. Coach M held a practice in an empty arena. All of the same enthusiasm, all of the encouragement, all of the gentle ribbing, just with no visible players. This was followed up by an actual solitary game in the same arena. We witnessed the sideline behavior of a man on a mission – to release some pent-up energy while bolstering the spirits of disappointed players and fans. Brilliant.
Meanwhile, friends who had recently been considered nerds were donning their super-hero capes. Techies at all sorts of places of employment prepared employees to work from home, and enabled lessons to continue for displaced students. Home-school parents shared hints for keeping kids on task, while allowing them to enjoy some luxuries, like frequent play-breaks and attending school in their pajamas. From folks who had been preaching preparedness for years, we learned the difference between buying what we need and irrational hoarding. Lessons that had fallen on deaf ears became welcome tips and tricks.
How will this story turn out for our news-weary nation? As of this writing, it is still unfolding. But, with the help of lots of clever people, and communication methods old and new, we are surviving. We are worshiping in our living rooms, praying more often, using the telephone for actual conversations. Families are working and playing together. Our kids are actually enjoying being outside when the sun comes out, as a break from online lessons. Imagine that.
All in all, there is hope in the Ouachita region. Stay safe, use your heads and wash your hands!!! We’ll talk again soon.
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