My, How Neighborhoods Change

My, How Neighborhoods  Change

By

Leo de Natale

In the winter of 1978 an infamously historic blizzard swept through New England and crippled the region, especially Boston, for weeks. The killer storm arrived swiftly and deposited nearly 30 inches of snow. Cars were stranded on highways. About 100 persons died and another 4,500 were injured. It wreaked havoc and caused approximately $520 million in damages.

       Anyone who experienced that cataclysmic event has a story and remembers where he or she was during the mega-blizzard.  Its impact has been seared into the memories of all who survived.  For seven days residents experienced back-breaking work of removing monumental snowdrifts.  All businesses were closed.  Only essential occupations, specifically hospitals and emergency health facilities were allowed freedom of movement.

Most people stayed at home and waited until an all clear announcement.  They were isolated and many experienced cabin fever.  An unusual phenomenon occurred.  Neighbors found themselves helping each other.  People who’d never acknowledged neighborhood residents said hello.  It was a strange silver lining to a frightening natural disaster.  After about one week conditions were improving.

       Of course comradery evaporated once the crisis had subsided.  Everything gradually returned to normal.  That evanescent period of neighborliness vanished.  No more hail fellow, well met.

Until this day, however, the mere mention of the word blizzard precipitates panic that is manifested by people elbowing each other at crowded supermarkets and grocery stores. Milk, bread, water, toilet paper, shovels, paper towels are usually sold out. No winter storm has dumped such gargantuan amounts of snow but the reaction is always the same: survival.

Fast forward 42 years. We are five months into the year 2020 and a different form of apocalypse has arrived. It is one that arrived in late January/early February. It is a far more ominous apocalypse and has instilled greater fear than an isolated blizzard. It is known as Covid-19, a virus exported from Communist China. Its origin is unknown but bioterrorism seems to be the most likely cause. The virus has infected the entire planet and has been labelled a pandemic.

       During winter 2020, countless died, jobs were lost, the nation’s economy suffered and Americans were forced into self-incarceration.  Panic arose, and, just like the Great Blizzard, people began raiding grocery and big box stores for, you guessed it, toilet paper, milk, bread, etc.  Oh, but throw in hand sanitizer and rubbing alcohol.  In the Northeast, the weather was unusual.  Significant snowfall and/or blizzards did not occur but the weather was miserably cold and extended into May.  It was easy to stay indoors. 

Homes with parents and children became trying because school systems – elementary, middle and high schools were closed. Higher educational institutions also furloughed students. It was a year where students were home-schooled and relied upon online education. College students were paying $50,000 tuitions for a University of Phoenix education. No one knows if this will be tenable. America has too many colleges and universities. Perhaps second and third tier institutions will suffer the same economic fate as many Roman Catholic churches were forced to close following the pederasty sex scandals.

It’s also unknown how long wearing masks and rubber gloves will continue.  Ditto for “social distancing”.  In the meantime, however, history is repeating itself.  We’ve reverted to 1978.  In neighborhoods in New England and presumably across the entire country, neighborliness has returned.  More people are walking in the ‘hoods.  Behind the masks, pedestrians will stare at strangers and offer a friendly wave or a muffled “hello”.  It’s a “We’re all in this together” subliminal message.

Behind the various colored and patterned masks are eyes of strangers who are yearning for human contact.  Walking and running are the most common forms of exercise.  All gyms and fitness clubs are closed.  Most folks don’t own indoor treadmills or similar exercising equipment.  For most of us it’s been walking, walking, walking.

This fraternal experience, however, does have limitations. Yes, the walkers are there but there has been an explosion of dog walking, too, and that’s the difference between 1978 and 2020. During the blizzard, walking the family dog was quick and dirty. Out for pee and poop, then back inside. It was cold and all were snowbound. Most dog owners didn’t have the inclination to walk Fido any longer than necessary. But now, the canine factor has raised ire among persons living in towns and cities. The problem? Some dog owners lack manners and etiquette. You’ll see them walking their dogs, using the “Flexi-lead”, a spring-loaded leash that allows dogs to walk farther distances from a typical six-foot leash. These owners are multi-tasking. Many walk their dogs while gazing hypnotically at cell phones. They are oblivious to their locations or their dogs. To varying degrees, we’ve all become “blast victims”.

What happens?  The dogs wander from a grassy sidewalk strip on to manicured lawns.  These semi-untethered dogs  urinate on front lawns; some defecate, too.  Owners  haven’t a clue it’s uncool for your dogs soil on private property.  There’s a sub-group called the “Night Walkers” who walk the dogs in the dark.  These sneaky people allow their pets to defecate on lawns and don’t collect the mess.  Night walkers have unfortunately always existed, pandemic or not.  Some things never change.

When the pandemic eventually is conquered, human beings will predictably return to normal habits.  Neighbors strolling  and dogs walking will vanish.  People will resume driving off to the supermarkets or big box stores.  Traffic jams and road rage will reappear.  We’ll soon forget the moment in time when empathy for fellow men and women rose, when we appreciated the frontliners – hospital staff, mail delivery workers, trash collectors, supermarket employees, police and firefighters and all the good people who survived an evil Plague and remain imbued with the kindness that is often unappreciated or ignored. The blizzard of ’78 and the 2020 pandemic are touchstones of survival.  Never forget them.  Catastrophes always recur.