Voices from the Pandemic

Voices from the Pandemic

Adult nonfiction
Where were you when the pandemic became real to you? I was at
UMaine in the multicultural center. It was near the end of the second
week in March 2020. The administration had been debating what to do.
Rumors were flying. I stepped out to go down the hall to my friend
Lisa Morin's office. She was just hanging her phone up. Campus was
to close down. It was not a rumor. When I returned and told my dear
friends they knew it was the truth. We looked at each other, stunned,
knowing our lives were about to be changed--and not for the better.
At the onset there was a belief that we were all weathering the
same storm. Later on the acknowledgement was added that we were in
different boats. Boats that were increasingly isolated as we were
urged to stay home (with the exception of essential workers) to help
flatten the curve.
Eli Saslow reached out from his boat to collect the stories of
others. "...The reporting in this book began as an attempt to see and
feel beyond my own living room into the millions of personal pandemics
unfolding across America." The interviews from which the stories were
crafted occurred between March 2020 and January 2021, while the
subjects were living their experiences and emotions--not in
retrospect. The voices are immediate and intimate. For this reason
Voices from the Pandemic can be a very hard book to read.
But it's an important one.
Some of the stories are those of the overworked, underequipped
medical personnel who had to treat a terrifying illness they were
still learning about. A shift leader of a nursing team tells about
sending her nurses into shifts where they have to care for far too
many critical patients while lacking adequate protective gear. A
doctor talks about the need for good news after losing twenty-seven
patients in a year. A coroner in a too rapidly reopening state
wonders if the people he sees socializing are deaths he'll have to
pronounce.
Some of them deal with severe deprivation caused by the
pandemic. A New Orleans grocer who cobbled his store together after
Katrina talks about carrying tabs for clients who formerly could pay--
tabs that are sometimes written off following a customer's death. A
man describes standing in a food line for the first time in his life
and wondering if they'll run out. The director of a charity describes
the unprecedented depths of need her organization is called on to
ameliorate.
Some stories share opposing perspectives. Evictions are
explored from the perspectives of an evicted tenant and a landlord. A
store employee tries to enforce a mask mandate while a shopper sees
masks as infringing on individual rights. A superintendent defends
his decision not to reopen a vulnerable school while a teacher
describes her decision to resign.
Voices from the Pandemic is a difficult book to read. If you're
like me some of the stories it contains will really get to you. But I
highly encourage you to read it and get insight into the experiences
of people whose early pandemic experiences were far different from
your own.
On a purrrsonal note, at the end of this week, week ten, we at UMaine
will be 2/3 through fall semester. It's looking increasingly like
we'll make it through the semester without a shut down. That will
such a relief!
I hope you had a good Halloween. I sure did. I got so much
accomplished Saturday I was able to make Halloween a reading day. I
put out a most excellent supper: cranberry mustard pork, acorn squash
baked with margerine, and mashed potatoes. I put on my unicorn
costume and handed out the goodie bags Eugene had prepared to lots of
trick or treaters. I had a really cool snowglobe (only plastic
instead of glass) with bats flying around a spooky house and scary
noises. It was nowhere in Amber's league. But it was a start. Next
year I'll do a little better. (Jules)
I got my cat treats. (Tobago)
A great big shout out goes out to all the little kids who finally got
to go trick or treating and the parents who escorted the littlest ones.
Tobago and Jules Hathaway




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