While we're waiting for the all clear to return to whatever awaits us after the coronavirus pandemic, some of us might be finding a lot of time on our hands. Streaming movies, video games, and whatever else we can dream up may fill the hours for some. Others may be spending time in reflection and contemplation. In my contemplation, I find ties to my past floating to the surface.
One set of memories are tied to when my hometown was evacuated after a controlled burn turned into a wildfire destroyed part of the town in May 2000. I was born and raised in Los Alamos, New Mexico and the fire, known as the Cerro Grande fire, was devastating. For more information see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cerro_Grande_Fire.
My kids and I bugged out before the evacuation orders came and started waiting out whatever was coming next. When the evacuation was ordered a few days later, we watched the news and the smoke from my parent's house. The fire moved into town and I was up all night watching the news: the same footage of the same houses in flames, the same cars lined up to evacuate. I couldn't get enough information but there was little information to be had.
Over the next several days, the questions and uncertainty continued. Whose houses survived? Were any lives lost? Any businesses lost? When could we go back? What would we find when we went back? There was little to do with the waiting. It was 10 days before we could get back into town, those of us who had places to return to.
But life did not return to normal. Families were displaced, streets cracked, power poles down. As insurance claims were paid to families who lost their homes, construction started on new homes, often next to 1950's government built homes from the town's early days that had been spared by the fire. Property values on these homes plummeted next to the newer homes around them. When the summer monsoon season started, severe flooding took out some of the streets, with huge trees killed in the fired washing down from the mountains, along with black ash.
I'm feeling some of the same uncertainties now that I did then, asking the same questions everyone else is. How long will this pandemic last? When will we return to work or school? What will life be like after? What will the new normal be and how long will it take to get there?
In a sense, I hope that we do not get back to life as it was. My hope is that we carry with us some of the lessons of COVID-19, that we remember how our lives are inextricably intertwined with the lives of others around the world; how precious and fragile life is; how important connections with other people are; and how important the least of us really are. May we remember the appreciation we now feel for people working in restaurants, grocery stores, and on farms. I hope we come out of this as a kinder and gentler nation.
