Just when America thought the Coronavirus had been staunched, it has struck again with a vengeance. As cases and deaths rise, the political blame game is in full swing. Scapegoats are needed for every American crisis. The media plays pin the tail on the politician. Incrimination is in season.
Many sincere Americans seem to have amnesia about where this virus originated. It sprung from the city of Wuhan in China and galloped throughout the world. Few countries have been immune from its deadly tentacles. Americans need to wake up to China's role in covering up the pandemic.
The Communist regime in China deliberately hid the outbreak in December of 2019. In collusion with the World Health Organization (WHO), the corrupt government used propaganda to coverup how the virus was transmitted. Communist censors muzzled doctors and scientists in their country.
To support these allegations, there is evidence from many sources. Beginning in December, twenty-seven people were hospitalized in Wuhan with what was diagnosed as a mysterious pneumonia. Eight doctors in the hospital attempted to warn their colleagues on social media about the outbreak.
When their posts went viral, the Communists deleted their messages. The local police summoned the doctors and demanded they sign a pledge to cease their "rumor mongering" about the outbreak. This incident triggered a massive coverup of epic proportions by Communist leaders.
Recent medical studies and investigations have revealed the extent of the masquerade. In its first report, the Wuhan health commission claimed the first patient to exhibit symptoms was hospitalized on December 12. It later revised the date to December 8 without explanation.
A study published by the Lancet medical journal divulged the first patient presented symptoms on December 1. That means the Communist government knew long before the outbreak was announced within China on December 31. What the Communists did next is a stunning duplicity.
The Chinese National Health Commission released statements on January 10 reassuring the public the disease was contained at the same time hospitals in Wuhan were swamped with infected patients. Meanwhile, China allowed citizens to continue to travel worldwide without checking for symptoms.
When word of the pandemic began to seep out of China, the government health authorities denied the disease could be transmitted between humans. WHO, citing Chinese research, issued a public statement on January 14 claiming there was "no clear evidence" of human-to-human transmission.
It was a deliberate lie. On January 20, Communist health officials, faced with mounting evidence of a deadly pandemic, were forced to admit the Coronavirus was a contagious pathogen that could indeed be carried from human-to-human. The subterfuge blindsided the rest of the world.
Once Chinese officials acknowledged the inevitable, they locked down Wuhan. No one could leave the city without government permission. Metro lines, railways, flights and ferries were shutdown. The regime later extended the strict quarantine to 15 other nearby cities, affecting 50 million people.
Guards patrolled the providence of Hubei, where the quarantine was ordered, to enforce an edict requiring citizens to shelter in place. Violators who ventured outdoors were rounded up and jailed. These harsh restrictions, not testing, were responsible for the containment.
But it was too late. The virus had erupted into a furious pandemic. Chinese media giant Caixin ran an expose February 29 outlining how authorities suppressed information that would have alerted its citizens. Caixin reported the government even had DNA samples of the virus but kept it secret.
"Tests from multiple labs in December suggested there was an outbreak of a new virus. However, the results failed to trigger a response that could have prepared the public," the investigative report concluded. Caixin, 40% owned by the Chinese regime, showed courage in running the article.
While the rest of the world remained in the dark, the Chinese government filled warehouses full of ventilators, masks, medical supplies, drugs and other materials. China is the global manufacturer and supplier of many of these items. It was no coincidence that China was prepared for the worst.
Throughout the pandemic, Chinese officials lied about the extent of the cases and deaths. Researchers who analyzed local data from Wuhan and other Hubei Province cities noticed the tallies did not match the data reported by China's National Health Commission.
In Shandong Province, the local CDC kept an internal record of samples that tested positive for the virus. The official government data deflated the numbers. In Liaoning Province, health authorities were instructed by the government to destroy documents and data on Coronavirus cases.
Wuhan health commission internal documents reviewed by journalists found 91 positive samples were recorded on March 14. That same day the Chinese regime publicly reported four new cases. Eventually, the regime ordered all samples dispatched to Beijing for analysis to manipulate the data.
It is naive to believe China has only recorded a little more than 83,000 cases and 4,635 deaths in a country of 1.39 billion. In Beijing, a city with a population of 20.4 million, China's health leaders have reported 929 cases and nine deaths. Those numbers are preposterous.
Hong Kong scientist Dr. Li-Meng Yan, who fled to the United States in April, has provided a peek underneath the Chinese government's facade. The immunologist corroborated that China knew in December about the extent of the virus but camouflaged the news from the rest of the world.
Dr. Yan has detailed how propaganda was used by top officials, including President Xi Jinping.The immunologist has evidence doctors and scientists in China tried to contradict the government's false claims about the virus, but were prevented from contacting WHO or Chinese health authorities.
Dr. Yan, who specialized in virology and immunology at the Hong Kong School of Public Health, was given the opportunity to investigate an odd cluster of virus cases coming out of mainland China at the end of 2019. The Communist government refused to allow her to visit China to gain data.
She reached out to her extensive network of professional contacts within China to determine what her colleagues knew about this new virus. After gaining some initial cooperation, the doctors and researchers suddenly clammed up. They acknowledged they were told not to talk about the virus.
Dr. Yan discovered "hospital doctors were scared" but advised her that people needed to start wearing masks. After reporting her findings about the virus to her supervisor on January 16, she was warned to "keep silent and be careful." Dr. Yan alleges WHO knew about the seriousness of the virus.
A frustrated Dr. Yan acknowledged that she suspected collusion "because I know the corruption among this kind of international organization like the WHO to China government and to China Communist Party." When Dr. Yan decided to speak out, she risked her life and career.
After officials got wind of her suspicions about the virus, she feared for her safety. Her husband, a reputable scientist in Hong Kong, cautioned her "they will kill all of us" if she persisted in exposing the truth. Dr. Yan made a decision April 28 to leave Hong Kong for the U.S. without her husband.
China can no longer escape blame for the spread of the Coronavirus. Had the Communists been transparent and alerted health agencies in every country the virus could have been stopped in its tracks. Nations, economies and ordinary people have suffered needlessly because of China.
Let's stop playing political games by accusing our own officials of neglect. Our anger should be reserved for the Chinese regime. They lied about the virus and hid the facts from the world. And they encouraged its global transmission by allowing flights to continue in the midst of the pandemic.
America and its allies must not allow China to go unpunished for spreading misery and death. Doing nothing is an invitation to the despots ruling the country to use future pandemics to achieve its goal of world domination through deliberate deceptions, false propaganda and deceitful tactics.
Monday, July 27, 2020
Monday, July 20, 2020
How I Survived The Dreaded Polio Epidemic
In the 1950's, I lived through the worst pandemic imaginable. Polio, a highly contagious virus that crippled and killed mostly children, raged in America. Parents shivered in fear their child would be the next victim. Some big cities closed pools, schools and churches. Businesses remained open.
Despite these precautions, the evil scourge refused to flee. Parents shielded their kids from the knowledge of the deadly virus. I remember hearing whispers from classmates in first grade. They spoke in hushed tones about a friend who had suffered paralysis. No one mentioned death.
With the Coronavirus continuing its deadly march across the globe, there are lessons the world could learn from the battle against polio. Like COVID, polio was not a new pathogen. Scientists now know it had existed for thousands of years. However, medical science was in its infancy.
Polio spread unchecked throughout the developed world. By 1910, frequent outbreaks occurred in the United States, striking in the summer months in large cities. In the 1940's and 1950's polio killed or paralyzed over a half million people worldwide every year.
By the late 1940's, polio outbreaks in America spiked, crippling an average of more than 35,000 each year. The victims were mostly kids. Parents sheltered their children indoors. Travel and commerce between cities was sparingly restricted. Fear paralyzed a nation just recovering from World War II.
The prevalence of polio in summer triggered a popular explanation that flies were guilty of infecting the innocent. Cities began dousing their neighborhoods with highly toxic pesticide DDT in hopes of eradicating the disease. Yet the number of cases grew larger each season.
I recall the infamous "fog" machines roaring at nightfall in Jennings, Louisiana, during 1951. Kids treated the evening distraction as a welcome event. I remember chasing the foggers with friends, inhaling the deadly toxin. No one ever warned us it was dangerous.
In 1952, the number of polio cases reached a peak of 52,000. Surveys found Americans feared only nuclear annihilation more than polio. Americans were traumatized. Parents felt helpless because the disease struck in random patterns. A national hysteria simmered because there was no vaccine.
My memory prickles at the time I saw a boy in metal leg braces struggling with metal crutches. I cringed at the thought that could be me or a sibling. When I was older, I met a boy trapped in a contraption called an iron lung. It was a terrifying sight and a sobering reminder that no one was safe.
Then a miracle happened. On March 26, 1953, American medical researcher Dr. Jonas Salk announced on national radio the development of a vaccine to halt polio in its tracks. Dr. Salk became an instant celebrity. President Dwight Eisenhower invited Dr. Salk to the White House.
What isn't well known about Dr. Salk's discovery is that it took nearly a decade to find a cure. In 1948, he chaired a project funded by the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis to study polio. He built a research team and directed their efforts during the next seven years in search of a vaccine.
Salk conducted the first human trials on former polio patients and on himself and family. There were no government delays or insistence on endless trials to assure the vaccine's safety. This was a war against a virus that demanded an urgent approach.
In 1954, Salk used his now famous vaccine on nearly two million American school children in what was billed as a clinical trial. The vaccine was pronounced safe and effective. Not many days after mass inoculations began, defective dosages of the vaccine were injected into 200,000 people.
Thousands of polio cases erupted; 200 children were paralyzed and 10 died. The tragic incident delayed the inoculations for a short period. Parents were undeterred even with the risks. Vaccinations resumed and by 1957 the number of polio cases in the United States nosedived to under 6,000.
I remember lining up with my siblings outside an elementary school for the shot. The line snaked around the school. Kids, yours truly included, whined and cried in anticipation of the dreaded needle sting. Children leaving the school sobbed. I was suffocated by fear waiting for the injection.
This recounting of the polio virus has some valuable lessons for Americans dealing with today's pandemic. Here are a few I find illuminating:
Fear is a natural enemy during a pandemic. We should recognize it and not criticize those who appear to be overreacting. But in the 1950's , there was no social media. Today unfortunately you find conspiracy theories, misinformation, anecdotal nonsense and a flood of pity parties online.
The media adds to our natural anxiety with around-the-clock news coverage. People cannot escape the tide of bad news about mounting cases and deaths. In the 1950's, there were fewer media outlets and the news coverage was less hysterical. Media informed without inflaming panic.
Despite the relentless pandemic, the media never engaged in politicizing the government's handling of polio. The Eisenhower Administration could have been blamed for the faulty batch of vaccine, which was labeled the "worst disaster in pharmaceutical history." The media refused to take the bait.
Another lesson is that vaccines require time to develop. Anyone who thinks a safe and effective Coronavirus vaccine will be in mass production soon may want to consider the polio experience. Sure, today's scientists in labs and research facilities are armed with glittering technology.
However, this doesn't change the basic science of learning what triggers the virus, how it spreads, its molecular properties and a host of other issues. Honest scientists will admit there are still many unknowns about Coronavirus. We don't have all the answers. You cannot rush science.
Another feature of the Polio experience was the willingness of parents to subject their kids to vaccinations even in the face of a disturbing setback. Imagine today if that happened when the Coronavirus vaccine was newly released. There would be an outcry to halt all vaccinations.
Add to that the unhealthy aversion many parents have to the idea of vaccinations for childhood diseases, such as measles and mumps. As many as 7 of 10 adults in some communities refuse to allow their kids to be vaccinated. Will the Coronavirus vaccination be any different?
Finally, we must realize there is nothing unusual or new about a pandemic. The world has lived with far worst infectious diseases than Coronavirus. For those experiencing it for the first time, it is a nightmare. The media has failed us by not putting this virus into perspective to calm the distress.
Sadly, more viruses will visit us in the future. We live and trade in a global economy, where travel between nations is a staple of business and pleasure. Most diseases are transmitted by humans. All humanity must accept this risk and insist nations bolster preparedness for the next pandemic.
Despite these precautions, the evil scourge refused to flee. Parents shielded their kids from the knowledge of the deadly virus. I remember hearing whispers from classmates in first grade. They spoke in hushed tones about a friend who had suffered paralysis. No one mentioned death.
With the Coronavirus continuing its deadly march across the globe, there are lessons the world could learn from the battle against polio. Like COVID, polio was not a new pathogen. Scientists now know it had existed for thousands of years. However, medical science was in its infancy.
Polio spread unchecked throughout the developed world. By 1910, frequent outbreaks occurred in the United States, striking in the summer months in large cities. In the 1940's and 1950's polio killed or paralyzed over a half million people worldwide every year.
By the late 1940's, polio outbreaks in America spiked, crippling an average of more than 35,000 each year. The victims were mostly kids. Parents sheltered their children indoors. Travel and commerce between cities was sparingly restricted. Fear paralyzed a nation just recovering from World War II.
The prevalence of polio in summer triggered a popular explanation that flies were guilty of infecting the innocent. Cities began dousing their neighborhoods with highly toxic pesticide DDT in hopes of eradicating the disease. Yet the number of cases grew larger each season.
I recall the infamous "fog" machines roaring at nightfall in Jennings, Louisiana, during 1951. Kids treated the evening distraction as a welcome event. I remember chasing the foggers with friends, inhaling the deadly toxin. No one ever warned us it was dangerous.
In 1952, the number of polio cases reached a peak of 52,000. Surveys found Americans feared only nuclear annihilation more than polio. Americans were traumatized. Parents felt helpless because the disease struck in random patterns. A national hysteria simmered because there was no vaccine.
My memory prickles at the time I saw a boy in metal leg braces struggling with metal crutches. I cringed at the thought that could be me or a sibling. When I was older, I met a boy trapped in a contraption called an iron lung. It was a terrifying sight and a sobering reminder that no one was safe.
Then a miracle happened. On March 26, 1953, American medical researcher Dr. Jonas Salk announced on national radio the development of a vaccine to halt polio in its tracks. Dr. Salk became an instant celebrity. President Dwight Eisenhower invited Dr. Salk to the White House.
What isn't well known about Dr. Salk's discovery is that it took nearly a decade to find a cure. In 1948, he chaired a project funded by the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis to study polio. He built a research team and directed their efforts during the next seven years in search of a vaccine.
Salk conducted the first human trials on former polio patients and on himself and family. There were no government delays or insistence on endless trials to assure the vaccine's safety. This was a war against a virus that demanded an urgent approach.
In 1954, Salk used his now famous vaccine on nearly two million American school children in what was billed as a clinical trial. The vaccine was pronounced safe and effective. Not many days after mass inoculations began, defective dosages of the vaccine were injected into 200,000 people.
Thousands of polio cases erupted; 200 children were paralyzed and 10 died. The tragic incident delayed the inoculations for a short period. Parents were undeterred even with the risks. Vaccinations resumed and by 1957 the number of polio cases in the United States nosedived to under 6,000.
I remember lining up with my siblings outside an elementary school for the shot. The line snaked around the school. Kids, yours truly included, whined and cried in anticipation of the dreaded needle sting. Children leaving the school sobbed. I was suffocated by fear waiting for the injection.
This recounting of the polio virus has some valuable lessons for Americans dealing with today's pandemic. Here are a few I find illuminating:
Fear is a natural enemy during a pandemic. We should recognize it and not criticize those who appear to be overreacting. But in the 1950's , there was no social media. Today unfortunately you find conspiracy theories, misinformation, anecdotal nonsense and a flood of pity parties online.
The media adds to our natural anxiety with around-the-clock news coverage. People cannot escape the tide of bad news about mounting cases and deaths. In the 1950's, there were fewer media outlets and the news coverage was less hysterical. Media informed without inflaming panic.
Despite the relentless pandemic, the media never engaged in politicizing the government's handling of polio. The Eisenhower Administration could have been blamed for the faulty batch of vaccine, which was labeled the "worst disaster in pharmaceutical history." The media refused to take the bait.
Another lesson is that vaccines require time to develop. Anyone who thinks a safe and effective Coronavirus vaccine will be in mass production soon may want to consider the polio experience. Sure, today's scientists in labs and research facilities are armed with glittering technology.
However, this doesn't change the basic science of learning what triggers the virus, how it spreads, its molecular properties and a host of other issues. Honest scientists will admit there are still many unknowns about Coronavirus. We don't have all the answers. You cannot rush science.
Another feature of the Polio experience was the willingness of parents to subject their kids to vaccinations even in the face of a disturbing setback. Imagine today if that happened when the Coronavirus vaccine was newly released. There would be an outcry to halt all vaccinations.
Add to that the unhealthy aversion many parents have to the idea of vaccinations for childhood diseases, such as measles and mumps. As many as 7 of 10 adults in some communities refuse to allow their kids to be vaccinated. Will the Coronavirus vaccination be any different?
Finally, we must realize there is nothing unusual or new about a pandemic. The world has lived with far worst infectious diseases than Coronavirus. For those experiencing it for the first time, it is a nightmare. The media has failed us by not putting this virus into perspective to calm the distress.
Sadly, more viruses will visit us in the future. We live and trade in a global economy, where travel between nations is a staple of business and pleasure. Most diseases are transmitted by humans. All humanity must accept this risk and insist nations bolster preparedness for the next pandemic.
Monday, July 13, 2020
Some Names Matter, Especially John Wayne
I am officially peeved. Fuming. Offended. A bunch of ninny politicians in Orange County California want to get rid of iconic actor John Wayne. Well, he is already gone, having departed planet Earth 41 years ago. That matters little to those invested in woke political orthodoxy.
These elected bozos allege John Wayne, a legend of 50 years in cinema, made a racist comment in a single interview nearly a half century ago. For this offense, the dunces are hell bent on removing the actor's name from the airport in Orange County, 45 miles south of Los Angeles.
I am a John Wayne aficionado. I grew up going to the movies to see his westerns. I didn't view all 169 of his films, but I recall he shot a bunch of Indians. To my knowledge Native Americans never raised a stink. Today the Duke might be branded a culturally insensitive cowboy.
By the way, Wayne's son, Ethan, told the Orange County busy bodies to pound sand. Ethan said his Dad didn't have a racist bone on his 6-foot-four-inch frame. That is good enough for me. This obsession with changing names of products, airports and streets is part of a monolithic ideology.
How come no one ever asks what offends me? I have a long list of names that trouble my tender sensibilities. I will be campaigning to scrap some monikers in this era of white guilt. As John Wayne might say, "Grab your six-shooter and saddle up partner because we are fixing to set things right."
I am forming a group called, Some Names Matter, funded by George Soros, a morally corrupt billionaire. The first order of business is to show up at an Orange County Commission meeting, armed with bullhorns and signs reading, "Enough!" My movement is just getting warmed up.
At the top of my list is the Charles M. Schultz Sonoma County Airport in Santa Rosa, named after the famed cartoonist. First off, I bet the county paid Peanuts for the land after snooping around for a good deal. Schultz's sin? He waited until 1968 to introduce an African-American in his cartoon strip.
Not only that, the Minneapolis native named the black character Franklin. That sounds like a cracker name to me. How many African-Americans do you know named Franklin? I am irritated! Outraged! Shame on Charlie Brown! (All those exclamation points are making me dizzy.)
Next on my list is the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles. Those California Democrats better peer into his background. His biography mentions that he was a "notorious womanizer." The oil magnate was slapped with a paternity suit at age 25. This filthy rich, fat-cat collected five wives!
No city should glorify the affluent who prey on innocent women. Tear down that museum, Mayor Garcetti! I will accept the art and sculptures as a goodwill gesture before the building is demolished. Being uber sensitive and wearing a chip, nay bolder, on your shoulder should come with rewards.
And how about Hugh Hefner Street in Chicago? I know it is just a narrow secluded road, but this philanderer exploited women. HIs lone contribution was introducing teenaged boys of my generation to the term "centerfold." That still does not excuse this man's prurient pursuits.
I am organizing a sea of pipe-smoking protesters dressed in their silk pajamas to demand the city remove this repugnant signage. There should be shame not honor for a man who cavorted with a bevy of scantily clad females at his opulent mansion. Haul down that sign, Mayor Lightfoot!
While they are changing the names of Aunt Jemima Syrup and Uncle Ben Rice, the sensitivity mob overlooked Bimbo Bakeries, the largest bakery in this whole United States. The firm, a subsidiary of Mexican multinational Grupo Bimbo, makes everything from muffins and bagels to tortillas.
Right on every package are the words, Bimbo! How dare denigrate women! The company claims it is an innocent combination of two words, Bingo and Bambi. Try telling that to the PepsiCO firm that owns the Aunt Jemima brand. Rip off that label, Mr. Grupo! Get woke!
NFL teams are not exempt from my rage. Minnesota's pro team mascot is a Viking. Does anyone know their history? Vikings raided and pillaged much of Northern Europe from 793 AD to 1066 AD, sacking towns, killing men and women. I know that was a couple thousand years ago, but...
Are we going to let those Minnesotans get away with glorifying killers? Not on my watch. The team needs to rid itself of that awful mascot. Minnesota needs a woke name! It's gets cold up their in the North, right? How about the Minnesota Snowflakes? That shouldn't annoy anyone!
This being offended is turning out to be a lot more fun than I expected. Now that I am riled and ruffled, how about changing the eponym of San Antonio? I know, the city was named after a saint for goodness sake, so I am treading on constantly-in-need-of-repair San Antonio pavement.
Hear me out. Saint Anthony of Padua was a Catholic priest. Are we going to start letting newcomers name every city after some Catholic?! Will the Vatican start dictating what we do in our cities?! How about a good Jewish name? Or a Muslim? Or a Presbyterian? You see the mess it creates.
I have a modest proposal. Rename San Antonio...wait for it...Royville. It has a nice ring, easier to spell, slips right off the tongue, and no Spanish accents are needed to pronounce it authentically. I don't imagine even Saint Anthony would be offended.
These elected bozos allege John Wayne, a legend of 50 years in cinema, made a racist comment in a single interview nearly a half century ago. For this offense, the dunces are hell bent on removing the actor's name from the airport in Orange County, 45 miles south of Los Angeles.
I am a John Wayne aficionado. I grew up going to the movies to see his westerns. I didn't view all 169 of his films, but I recall he shot a bunch of Indians. To my knowledge Native Americans never raised a stink. Today the Duke might be branded a culturally insensitive cowboy.
By the way, Wayne's son, Ethan, told the Orange County busy bodies to pound sand. Ethan said his Dad didn't have a racist bone on his 6-foot-four-inch frame. That is good enough for me. This obsession with changing names of products, airports and streets is part of a monolithic ideology.
How come no one ever asks what offends me? I have a long list of names that trouble my tender sensibilities. I will be campaigning to scrap some monikers in this era of white guilt. As John Wayne might say, "Grab your six-shooter and saddle up partner because we are fixing to set things right."
I am forming a group called, Some Names Matter, funded by George Soros, a morally corrupt billionaire. The first order of business is to show up at an Orange County Commission meeting, armed with bullhorns and signs reading, "Enough!" My movement is just getting warmed up.
At the top of my list is the Charles M. Schultz Sonoma County Airport in Santa Rosa, named after the famed cartoonist. First off, I bet the county paid Peanuts for the land after snooping around for a good deal. Schultz's sin? He waited until 1968 to introduce an African-American in his cartoon strip.
Not only that, the Minneapolis native named the black character Franklin. That sounds like a cracker name to me. How many African-Americans do you know named Franklin? I am irritated! Outraged! Shame on Charlie Brown! (All those exclamation points are making me dizzy.)
Next on my list is the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles. Those California Democrats better peer into his background. His biography mentions that he was a "notorious womanizer." The oil magnate was slapped with a paternity suit at age 25. This filthy rich, fat-cat collected five wives!
No city should glorify the affluent who prey on innocent women. Tear down that museum, Mayor Garcetti! I will accept the art and sculptures as a goodwill gesture before the building is demolished. Being uber sensitive and wearing a chip, nay bolder, on your shoulder should come with rewards.
And how about Hugh Hefner Street in Chicago? I know it is just a narrow secluded road, but this philanderer exploited women. HIs lone contribution was introducing teenaged boys of my generation to the term "centerfold." That still does not excuse this man's prurient pursuits.
I am organizing a sea of pipe-smoking protesters dressed in their silk pajamas to demand the city remove this repugnant signage. There should be shame not honor for a man who cavorted with a bevy of scantily clad females at his opulent mansion. Haul down that sign, Mayor Lightfoot!
While they are changing the names of Aunt Jemima Syrup and Uncle Ben Rice, the sensitivity mob overlooked Bimbo Bakeries, the largest bakery in this whole United States. The firm, a subsidiary of Mexican multinational Grupo Bimbo, makes everything from muffins and bagels to tortillas.
Right on every package are the words, Bimbo! How dare denigrate women! The company claims it is an innocent combination of two words, Bingo and Bambi. Try telling that to the PepsiCO firm that owns the Aunt Jemima brand. Rip off that label, Mr. Grupo! Get woke!
NFL teams are not exempt from my rage. Minnesota's pro team mascot is a Viking. Does anyone know their history? Vikings raided and pillaged much of Northern Europe from 793 AD to 1066 AD, sacking towns, killing men and women. I know that was a couple thousand years ago, but...
Are we going to let those Minnesotans get away with glorifying killers? Not on my watch. The team needs to rid itself of that awful mascot. Minnesota needs a woke name! It's gets cold up their in the North, right? How about the Minnesota Snowflakes? That shouldn't annoy anyone!
This being offended is turning out to be a lot more fun than I expected. Now that I am riled and ruffled, how about changing the eponym of San Antonio? I know, the city was named after a saint for goodness sake, so I am treading on constantly-in-need-of-repair San Antonio pavement.
Hear me out. Saint Anthony of Padua was a Catholic priest. Are we going to start letting newcomers name every city after some Catholic?! Will the Vatican start dictating what we do in our cities?! How about a good Jewish name? Or a Muslim? Or a Presbyterian? You see the mess it creates.
I have a modest proposal. Rename San Antonio...wait for it...Royville. It has a nice ring, easier to spell, slips right off the tongue, and no Spanish accents are needed to pronounce it authentically. I don't imagine even Saint Anthony would be offended.
Monday, July 6, 2020
The Insidious Coronavirus Turns Personal
For months the Coronavirus outbreak has been viewed by yours truly as data. Statistics. It was a detached reality. Now it is personal. My remarkable 93-year-old mother-in-law Dorothy Anderson succumbed to the insidious virus last week. It was a sad ending to her extraordinary life.
Mom, as I affectionately called her because she always treated me as her son, resided in a nursing home in Seguin. Despite precautionary measures, a worker at the long term facility tested positive for the virus two-and-one-half weeks ago. Since that incident, four residents have been hospitalized.
This scenario has been too often repeated in the nation's nursing homes. According to data, at least 42% of all Coronavirus victims been been residents in long term care facilities. More needs to be done to protect the vulnerable among us. No more excuses from governments or nursing homes.
Mom's iron determination was tested when she was quarantined to her room in March. She could no longer use her walker to saunter to the dining room for meals or stroll the halls. Her existence was confined a tiny room with a small bed and a recliner.
No longer could family visit her. Her meals were eaten alone in her room. She lost interest in reading. Although she had a television, her hearing had deteriorated to the point where she gave up listening. Oppressive silence was Mom's constant companion.
It was a cruel, lonely way to spend what turned out to be her last days. As the months wore on, our usually alert Mom seemed confused and unable to carry on long conversations by telephone. Her spirit sagged and you could hear the desperation in her voice to be spared further incarceration.
Her 93rd birthday in April was a dispiriting occasion instead of a joyful celebration shared with hugs and kisses. Nurses wheeled her to a picture-frame window near the lobby of the nursing home where a clump of family members had gathered. Mom initially looked haggard, dazed.
Family held signs, balloons and sang "Happy Birthday" to her as she listened on the mobile phone she clutched in her hand. She smiled, waved and seemed to be cheered up. But it was not a proper birthday party, such as her 90th where the entire family embraced her with love and affection.
More than a few tears were shed after the family dispersed. We realized what incredible suffering Mom was forced to endure. Yes, isolation was scientifically and medically necessary, especially for Mom who had a pre-existing heart valve issue that made her more susceptible to the virus.
Yet for her and the other residents it was more like prison than simple seclusion. Her world had shrunk to the unbearable. It extracted a terrible toll on her mental and physical well being. We could all see it and it was excruciating to watch. No one should be forced to involuntarily endure this.
Her final hours were more heartbreaking. Last Thursday, Dianna visited Mom along with a few family members. They waved to Mom as she slumped in her wheelchair in front of the nursing home's picture-window. Dianna instinctively knew there was something visibly wrong.
Later Mom was whisked by ambulance to the Seguin hospital, complaining of shortness of breath. Hours droned by before she was given a COVID test. It came back positive. She was placed in an isolated ward and given respiratory aid. Her breathing was labored. The end was drawing near.
Friday afternoon the hospital graciously agreed to push Mom's bed next to a hospital window so we could say our goodbyes. Tears flowed as we viewed Mom surrounded by dedicated health care workers. One nurse held Mom's hand, stroking it gently, sweetly.
We wanted to be the ones clutching her hand and comforting her. Giving her a hug. Assuring her she was loved and would soon be in the arms of her merciful God. All we could do is talk through the window of the hospital, praying, hoping she could hear us. She nodded faintly a few times.
As family somberly drifted away, Dianna and I took turns standing vigil at the small window. Mom's last breath was thankfully peaceful after she had been sedated. It was the most distressing end because we knew she would have liked nothing better than to be surrounded by her family.
This is a mournful tale but I make no apologies. Americans need to understand this evil virus has been worse for the elderly, especially those over 80. Like Mom, many spend their final months, locked away for their own protection, only to still contract the virus. That is unconscionable.
Workers and patients at the facility had been tested for the virus. But the tests are not conducted daily. Workers, especially, should be required to submit to daily testing. Quarantine is no guarantee anyone's safety because staff deliver meals, check patient vitals and perform close contact duties.
Until this happened to Mom, neither Dianna nor I knew anyone personally with the virus. Since less than 1 percent of the population has been infected, most of you are probably in the same situation. We felt removed from this wicked virus, but we nonetheless follow the guidelines faithfully.
Next time you view a headline announcing COVID deaths, remember each one of those numbers is a real person. Each is more than a statistic. And family members are devastated by their passing. They too are victims of COVID. Not just those whose lives are claimed by the virus.
Finally, another lesson of Mom's experience is that it is human nature to search for a scapegoat. Who is to blame for her sudden death? The nursing home? The local government? The state? Washington? This virus is foreign born, transported to our country by unwitting carriers. No one wanted it.
What matters is that we demand more be done to protect the 2.1 million Americans in long term care facilities. Our voices should also advocate for more humane treatment of those forced to be locked in their rooms. Facilities must find more ways to spare residents a sense of imprisonment.
Anger and blame, no matter how understandable, will not change what happened to Dorothy Anderson or the hundreds of thousands of elderly held captive until they are taken from us. The search for answers can only be found in faith and prayer.
Mom's life should not be defined by this demon virus. She had a dynamic presence and was the personification of Texas grit. She conquered breast cancer, a heart attack, a near fatal automobile accident, two knee surgeries, two devastating floods and cared for her Alzheimer's-stricken husband.
She and her husband John were pioneers in the pecan business, wholesaling and retailing the nuts. They managed multiple orchards, harvesting and shelling pecans too. Mom operated a tractor, laid irrigation pipe, packaged pecans, worked as hard as any farm hand.
She served as the state representative for the Texas Pecan Growers Association, a rare post for a woman. She volunteered to be on the city of Seguin's "Welcome Wagon" team, taking newcomers gift baskets and greeting them with a smile and kind words in her unique way.
Her joy and pride was birthing her five children into the world. She fiercely defended and protected each one. Raised them to be strong and independent. Her life revolved around family, especially grandkids in later years. This is how I want Mom to be remembered. God Bless you Mom.
Mom, as I affectionately called her because she always treated me as her son, resided in a nursing home in Seguin. Despite precautionary measures, a worker at the long term facility tested positive for the virus two-and-one-half weeks ago. Since that incident, four residents have been hospitalized.
This scenario has been too often repeated in the nation's nursing homes. According to data, at least 42% of all Coronavirus victims been been residents in long term care facilities. More needs to be done to protect the vulnerable among us. No more excuses from governments or nursing homes.
Mom's iron determination was tested when she was quarantined to her room in March. She could no longer use her walker to saunter to the dining room for meals or stroll the halls. Her existence was confined a tiny room with a small bed and a recliner.
No longer could family visit her. Her meals were eaten alone in her room. She lost interest in reading. Although she had a television, her hearing had deteriorated to the point where she gave up listening. Oppressive silence was Mom's constant companion.
It was a cruel, lonely way to spend what turned out to be her last days. As the months wore on, our usually alert Mom seemed confused and unable to carry on long conversations by telephone. Her spirit sagged and you could hear the desperation in her voice to be spared further incarceration.
Her 93rd birthday in April was a dispiriting occasion instead of a joyful celebration shared with hugs and kisses. Nurses wheeled her to a picture-frame window near the lobby of the nursing home where a clump of family members had gathered. Mom initially looked haggard, dazed.
Family held signs, balloons and sang "Happy Birthday" to her as she listened on the mobile phone she clutched in her hand. She smiled, waved and seemed to be cheered up. But it was not a proper birthday party, such as her 90th where the entire family embraced her with love and affection.
More than a few tears were shed after the family dispersed. We realized what incredible suffering Mom was forced to endure. Yes, isolation was scientifically and medically necessary, especially for Mom who had a pre-existing heart valve issue that made her more susceptible to the virus.
Yet for her and the other residents it was more like prison than simple seclusion. Her world had shrunk to the unbearable. It extracted a terrible toll on her mental and physical well being. We could all see it and it was excruciating to watch. No one should be forced to involuntarily endure this.
Her final hours were more heartbreaking. Last Thursday, Dianna visited Mom along with a few family members. They waved to Mom as she slumped in her wheelchair in front of the nursing home's picture-window. Dianna instinctively knew there was something visibly wrong.
Later Mom was whisked by ambulance to the Seguin hospital, complaining of shortness of breath. Hours droned by before she was given a COVID test. It came back positive. She was placed in an isolated ward and given respiratory aid. Her breathing was labored. The end was drawing near.
Friday afternoon the hospital graciously agreed to push Mom's bed next to a hospital window so we could say our goodbyes. Tears flowed as we viewed Mom surrounded by dedicated health care workers. One nurse held Mom's hand, stroking it gently, sweetly.
We wanted to be the ones clutching her hand and comforting her. Giving her a hug. Assuring her she was loved and would soon be in the arms of her merciful God. All we could do is talk through the window of the hospital, praying, hoping she could hear us. She nodded faintly a few times.
As family somberly drifted away, Dianna and I took turns standing vigil at the small window. Mom's last breath was thankfully peaceful after she had been sedated. It was the most distressing end because we knew she would have liked nothing better than to be surrounded by her family.
This is a mournful tale but I make no apologies. Americans need to understand this evil virus has been worse for the elderly, especially those over 80. Like Mom, many spend their final months, locked away for their own protection, only to still contract the virus. That is unconscionable.
Workers and patients at the facility had been tested for the virus. But the tests are not conducted daily. Workers, especially, should be required to submit to daily testing. Quarantine is no guarantee anyone's safety because staff deliver meals, check patient vitals and perform close contact duties.
Until this happened to Mom, neither Dianna nor I knew anyone personally with the virus. Since less than 1 percent of the population has been infected, most of you are probably in the same situation. We felt removed from this wicked virus, but we nonetheless follow the guidelines faithfully.
Next time you view a headline announcing COVID deaths, remember each one of those numbers is a real person. Each is more than a statistic. And family members are devastated by their passing. They too are victims of COVID. Not just those whose lives are claimed by the virus.
Finally, another lesson of Mom's experience is that it is human nature to search for a scapegoat. Who is to blame for her sudden death? The nursing home? The local government? The state? Washington? This virus is foreign born, transported to our country by unwitting carriers. No one wanted it.
What matters is that we demand more be done to protect the 2.1 million Americans in long term care facilities. Our voices should also advocate for more humane treatment of those forced to be locked in their rooms. Facilities must find more ways to spare residents a sense of imprisonment.
Anger and blame, no matter how understandable, will not change what happened to Dorothy Anderson or the hundreds of thousands of elderly held captive until they are taken from us. The search for answers can only be found in faith and prayer.
Mom's life should not be defined by this demon virus. She had a dynamic presence and was the personification of Texas grit. She conquered breast cancer, a heart attack, a near fatal automobile accident, two knee surgeries, two devastating floods and cared for her Alzheimer's-stricken husband.
She and her husband John were pioneers in the pecan business, wholesaling and retailing the nuts. They managed multiple orchards, harvesting and shelling pecans too. Mom operated a tractor, laid irrigation pipe, packaged pecans, worked as hard as any farm hand.
She served as the state representative for the Texas Pecan Growers Association, a rare post for a woman. She volunteered to be on the city of Seguin's "Welcome Wagon" team, taking newcomers gift baskets and greeting them with a smile and kind words in her unique way.
Her joy and pride was birthing her five children into the world. She fiercely defended and protected each one. Raised them to be strong and independent. Her life revolved around family, especially grandkids in later years. This is how I want Mom to be remembered. God Bless you Mom.
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