When I was a kid, at some point during Middle School, I became a rabid fan, and player, of the game of hockey. In those formidable years, my brain was a metaphorical sponge, and I would serve to quench my thirst for knowledge with any and everything I could soak up amongst a myriad of subjects, with hockey, and its history, being no different than the others.
I remember looking through old trading cards, and statistics books, reveling in the athletic accomplishments of the Hall of Famers, and championship winners of days gone by, and one thing struck me as odd. There was always an asterisk next to the year 1919 for the Stanley Cup Championship. I would come to learn that the Montreal Canadians battled against the Seattle Metropolitans, but after the Spanish Flu pandemic ravaged the globe, leaving Montreal with insufficient men to field a team in the middle of the finals series, the season was ended abruptly, and the Stanley Cup was vacated. This decision was made in spite of the Canadians offering to forfeit the championship to Seattle, which Frank Patrick, the Metropolitan’s owner, and Pete Muldoon, coach, declined, stating that they believed championships were to be won on the ice, and not as a result of a technicality.
The devastation of the Spanish Flu saw roughly one-third of the world’s population infected in some capacity or another, with estimates having at least 50 million deaths attributed to the virus, and a uniquely high mortality rate for individuals ranging between the ages of 20-40, accounting for roughly half of the deaths. The pandemic came in three distinct waves in the Spring, Fall and Winter of 1918, with the latter wave lasting the longest, and through the first six months of 1919, the pandemic had amassed a death-toll that surpassed the annual totals of 1915, 1916, and 1917 combined. The cases eventually began to subside in the Summer of 1919 as the virus continued to mutate into less-and-less lethal iterations of itself as the hardest hit populations began to seemingly develop an immunity.
If you were wondering what kicked off that third wave, many of the new cases followed a Thanksgiving celebration in which caution was thrown to the wind amidst relaxed restrictions in many areas due to the pushback from those economically impacted by the pandemic, such as retailers, labor unions, mass transportation providers, and entertainment venues. Admittedly, at that time, people had much to celebrate. On November 11th of 1918, an armistice was signed to end The Great War (World War 1), which meant that soldiers were returning stateside, with many of them being welcomed with open arms into the homes of strangers for a Thanksgiving feast, which on the face of it seemed to be a kind gesture from a grateful nation. Unfortunately, with no good deed ever going unpunished, the haphazard behavior resulted in a resurgence of the pandemic, with many claiming that a lapse in the accuracy of reporting was breeding a false sense of security amongst the population, resulting in lackadaisical behavior that further exacerbated the third wave, likely prolonging its duration.
However, although the lethality of the Spanish Flu diminished, the virus was never truly eradicated, and in the 100-plus years since, mutations of that original strain, known as the H1N1, have resurfaced in other outbreaks, most notably in 1957, 1968 and the 2009 “Swine Flu.”
Enter: Thanksgiving, 2020. Welcome to the era of SARS-CoV-2, commonly known as the novel Coronavirus, or more colloquially, the ‘Rona.
As I’ve continued to educate myself about the Spanish Flu, I’ve observed several parallels between the two pandemics; One of them being that the quarantines, isolation orders, mask-mandates, and shut-downs were enacted inconsistently. They were not levied at the federal level, but, rather, left for local governments to handle themselves, which stands to reason as densely populated cities would seemingly have a higher likelihood of transmission than the sparsely populated countryside, and therefore require a different set of restrictions.
Even the politicizing and downplaying of the pandemics bear eerie similarities, with a mid-term election held in 1918, in which President Woodrow Wilson’s Democratic Party was battling to retain power, while in 2020, President Trump and the Republicans were hoping to do the same.
Much the same as today, many people at the onset of the Spanish Flu believed it to be nothing more than a seasonal cold, blown out of proportion, thus showing minimal concern.
In another paradigm indicative of historical echoing, during the Second World War, companies like General Motors, Ford Motor Company, Singer Corporation, and Remington Rand (producers of the sewing machines, and typewriters, respectively, for those of you that still remember what those are) took up the cause to support the war effort in producing things like tanks, aircraft, and firearms, amongst other war-time necessities. Pennies were no longer made from copper, with the U.S. Mint electing to utilize steel, with a thin zinc coating, to spare the copper for shell casings, and other munitions. Women were no longer able to wear stockings, instead drawing lines on the backs of their legs with common items like eye-liner to create the illusion of back-seams after DuPont had re-tooled their factories to use the nylon in the production of parachutes and rope.
Fast forward 75 years, and instead of a global war, it was a pandemic that over-took the world. Lego re-tooled their factory in Denmark to 3D print face shield frames for the medical staff on the front-lines. Similarly, the Evans Drumhead Company (owned by D’Addario) began utilizing the 7-mil thick clear Mylar found in their G2 drum-heads to produce clear face shields, while Ford and GM stepped in once again, but this time, they found themselves producing low-cost ventilators in an effort to help save lives, rather than pumping out devices used to end them.
Winston Churchill, paraphrasing an aphorism by Spanish philosopher George Santayana, once said, “Those that fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.”
Reports of another resurgent wave of COVID-19 positive tests, which has predictably followed Thanksgiving get-togethers, just as it did during the Spanish Flu, have swept the nation, and they will likely be further perpetuated as a result of Christmas and New Years gatherings in the coming weeks, as well.
There’s no question that history repeats itself, and we are living proof of that sentiment as we continue to pen our own chapters of the history book, almost as if they were some lackluster remake of an original, reminiscent of some lazy modern-day Hollywood-writer that appears to be plagued by writer’s block, and is looking to the past for inspiration.
A few months ago, I found myself sitting at the dining-room table with my wife, listening to music, and assembling a Lego “Creator Expert” level building set, a relaxing hobby we’d taken up as a result of the quarantines to help do our part to stay home, potentially reducing the spread, and of course our own exposure.
As we passed the instruction manual back and forth after ever few steps, taking turns as we built, the conversation shifted as we discussed the social ramifications of a world gone mad amidst the pandemic. While I’m sure many are suffering from FOMO- Fear Of Missing Out (I know I am… The Belle Isle Grand Prix and Rolex 24 Hour Endurance Race at Daytona Beach are two events I very eagerly anticipate), the potential impacts of social distancing could ultimately go much deeper than selfish frustrations. We wondered, will younger kids become (even more) socially awkward? How will high-school aged kids date? What do athletics look like in the upcoming years? A valid concern considering that, although the scholarship system can be abhorred by some, there are still a vast many under-privileged kids that rely upon scholarships to obtain a higher education.
I then looked to a different perspective. Don’t get me wrong, 2020 has seen a world aghast as bad news story upon bad news story has perpetually hyped an abysmally depressing year, and some have been markedly more adversely impacted than others. However, we have found ourselves fortunate that my wife’s position has shifted to allow her to work from our home office, and although I still have to report to work, we both were grateful in that our positions remained “essential,” somewhat of a misnomer as I sometimes felt more like a sacrificial lamb.
Admittedly, as grateful as we remain, we still miss our friends, and I miss things like hockey games and concerts, although I miss seeing my grandfather most of all, as his memory care facility has held the strictest restrictions in the area, but, as of the last information I’d received, it’s the only facility in the county to boast zero positive cases.
Nevertheless, as Rachel and I talked, I went on to say, and I’m obviously paraphrasing here, “Well, there are a lot of positives to come from all of this. Imagine how much more we’ll value the time spent with our friends and families in the future? Imagine how the family unit, in and of itself, will be strengthened as we have once again learned how to become families, unencumbered by plans, and social escapes. Family dinners are a thing again, and family game nights have returned. People are reading, working on puzzles, coloring, and generally spending time together. Our kids, although struggling because they miss all of the elements of what it means to be a kid, are also learning to be more independent than kids in recent generations. They’re developing this sense of self-reliance as their time management skills are put the test, and further honed through their virtual-schooling, Zoom meetings, and so on. Parents are taking an interest in their children’s education- because they have to. People are learning to communicate with one another more effectively because they have to. Either as colleagues, or friends. We no longer have the luxury of face-to-face interactions, so people are forced to learn to be more direct, and concise to ensure their messages are effective. Outdoor equipment, such as kayaks, have been sold-out or hard to come by for nearly the entire year as people rediscovered the outdoors, and dumb-bells are a scarcity as basements and spare bedrooms have been transformed into make-shift home gyms while some have made good use of their time at home. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, I’m aware, but there are still some things to remain optimistic about.”
To that end, I’m not naïve as to the challenges and impacts these quarantines, and governmental restrictions have levied upon small businesses and individuals, while corporations that were aptly designed to thrive in even such a scenario have reaped the benefits. Although we’ve personally continued to patronize those local restaurants and small businesses we’ve always loved (when we can), it was still a sobering reality when the pizzeria my parents and I had frequented in my youth, closed it’s doors for good.
We’d ordered the same pizza just about every Friday evening, Pepperoni, Mushroom and Onion, Double Crust, Double Cheese, and paired it with a glass-bottled Pepsi-Cola as we indulged while watching shows like Family Matters and Perfect Strangers on ABC’s original TGIF line-up.
Pete, (born Pietro Montini) was the owner of Dave’s Pizzeria, and he came to know my parents by name, face, and even recognizing their voice when they’d phone in our usual order. He was always friendly, and greeted us with a smile, taking time to check in, and say hello on the rare occasions we’d actually find ourselves dining in. Pete had moved to Flint, Michigan from Italy at the age of 15, and found his niche in society thanks to his love of cooking, and more specifically, cooking for people. He’d owned Dave’s Pizzeria for nearly 50 years prior to selling it in 2015, presumably to retire, eventually passing at the age of 69 the following year. Although I still enjoyed the pizza after Pete’s departure, it was admittedly not the same; I still remember those pizzas from my childhood as the best I’ve ever had- The pepperoni had a certain spice that I’ve never seemed to find in another, but perhaps it was simply the result of a young, impressionable mind. Regardless, you don’t often find an experience such as this, or memories like these, from a Little Caesars.
No matter how you slice it (shameless pun intended), it felt like a crushing blow as a piece of my childhood had died, another causality of 2020.
We’ll collectively enter into 2021 with bated breath, and understandably so. However, in spite of the challenges, frustrations, and hurdles you may have had to overcome this year, you have a clean slate, and a choice to make. You can take the simple route, and choose to dwell on how terrible 2020 was, and it has most assuredly earned its place in the history books as yet another asterisk year, but I believe that life is all about perspective. It’s not necessarily about what happens to you, it’s about how you react to it. How you decide to move forward from it. Nearly every negative experience, (with a few exceptions, such as deaths) can be made into something positive, but it takes a conscious effort from the individual to find the lesson in a given situation, and to learn from it. It may not happen immediately. Hell, it may occur years later when you find yourself introspectively analyzing how you’ve managed to come out on top after you’ve already subconsciously put in the work.
In my life, I’ve lost jobs, yet found a career. I’ve lost friends, but gained family. I’ve lost girlfriends, then gained a wife. NONE of it was easy. None of it was convenient. Some of it was infinitely terrifying. Like many, I’m uncomfortable with change, however, growth isn’t about remaining comfortable. In order to evolve, we have to learn to step outside of our respective comfort zones, even if it’s scary as hell.
Yeah, 2020 sucked, and we can’t be guaranteed that 2021 will be any better; A change in calendar won’t change the world, but keep grinding, because this too, shall pass, and I promise you’ll be stronger on the other side.
-DJF
From the desk of Dave Foster 