Feeds:
Posts
Comments

I just finished reading an interesting book. The title is A Warning, written by “Anonymous.”

[S]he is anonymous because [s]he is a high-level appointee of Donald Trump’s administration and the book consists of 259 pages of harsh criticism of Trump’s character, honesty, courage and leadership.

But that’s not what this is about.

As alarming as the book’s contents are, it was three pages of the epilogue that really drove home the point that we lost something in this country for a while that we may regain from shared hardship.

The epilogue began with the account of Todd Beamer whose final words on united Flight 93 on Sept. 11, 2001, were, “Let’s roll.”

You know the story. Beamer had connected with Lisa Jefferson, a call representative for the in-flight phone company after the plane was hijacked and the pilot, co-pilot and a passenger were killed. As he and a few fellow passengers conspired to storm the cockpit, Beamer told Jefferson if he did not survive to give his wife a message: “Tell her I love her and the boys.” Beamer never learned that his wife was pregnant with a baby girl.

After reciting the Lord’s Prayer and the 23rd Psalm, they fought with the hijackers and the plane crashed into a Pennsylvania field—less than a half-hour from Washington, D.C.

“Let’s roll” would become a rallying cry for Americans who came together in a show of unity less than a year after the nation had been split by a sharply disputed presidential election that, in the end, had to be settled by the U.S. Supreme Court. In the interim between the election and the court’s decision, political discord permeated the very soul of the country.

The image of the second World Trade Center tower coming down in real time is still seared into my brain. Late into the night I sat riveted to my television. I heard Larry King interviewing a New York City firefighter who had lost members of his unit. King asked him why they didn’t leave the building sooner. “That’s not what we do, Mr. King,” the fireman replied softly but firmly. “We go in, not out.”

Now, we are again facing a national crisis, one that has us forced to remain in our homes. We cannot congregate in theaters, restaurants, churches, classrooms, or stadiums. Sporting events—entire seasons in some cases—have been canceled as have festivals like JazzFest and the Louisiana Strawberry Festival. But those things now seem unimportant as our new priority has become prowling stores in quests of toilet paper and hand sanitizer.

Suddenly, we are gripped with fear for our health care workers who are finding protective masks, gowns, gloves, and face shields in short supply. Ventilators and beds for those suffering from COVID-19 are scarce and those whose jobs are to protect us from this disease suddenly realize with growing horror their limitations to do just that.

Our federal government, reluctant to recognize and/or acknowledge the threat, has been slow to react and Congress seems paralyzed, unable to hammer out an adequate response to help businesses hard hit by closures and employees thrown out of work.

One proposal called for stipends of $1,000 or $2,000 for each member of every family in America. That’s insane. Those who have not lost their jobs or those like myself, who are retired and face no interruption of their income stream, have no need of a government handout. Funny thing is that payout is being proposed by some Republicans who profess to be opposed to socialism.

But I digress. The point I’m trying to make here is it is possible for us to overcome our political differences and pull together in one direction.

We’d better.

There’s a lot to criticize about Donald Trump’s overall approach to this crisis. His incoherent press briefings, punctuated by outbursts at reporters who ask legitimate questions, is but one complaint that I have. But that’s an issue for another day.

And unlike Rep. Clay Higgins, we cannot afford to grandstand on the false issue of freedom of assembly or freedom of worship when Gov. Edwards calls for restricting the size of gatherings to 50 or fewer—later revised to 10 or fewer—for our own well-being.

Higgins, one of the biggest clowns in the circus we know as Washington, leaped to the defense of the church in Central that defied the governor’s directive. If that preacher really cared for his congregation, instead of passing out anointed prayer cloths and opening the doors to his church, he would have cautioned members to stay home, be safe, be well, and pray for each other.

This pandemic is bigger than any preacher. It’s bigger than Clay Higgins and it’s bigger than Donald Trump. It’s bigger than any individual or group of individuals.

We have no way of knowing how, when or where this will end. We don’t know if we will lose loved ones or not. We don’t know what it will ultimately do to our economy or if people will lose their jobs permanently or even their homes.

Everything about COVID-19 is an unknown. There hasn’t been anything like it since the Spanish Flu pandemic of a century ago.

So, it is imperative that we do more than just wash our hands. We must tune out Trump’s unintelligible political blathering and listen to our health care providers and heed their advice. The bottom line is they are the only ones who actually know what they’re talking about.

As Americans, Louisianans, and as neighbors, we must maintain social distancing literally and come together figuratively for the common good.

“Let’s roll.”

 

“The President hears a hundred voices telling him that he is the greatest man in the world. He must listen carefully indeed to hear the one voice that tells him he is not.”

—Harry Truman.

“First, its location. While the obvious choice would be somewhere in the southeast, e.g., Alabama, South Carolina, or Mississippi, Liberty or Bob Jones Universities would be eager to host his shrine. But don’t be surprised if Texas comes into play. I think a nice ornate building adjoined to a section of the border wall would be appropriate.

What will be inside?

  • A blank set of documents purporting to be copies of his Federal Tax Returns.
  • Thousands of signed IOU’s written in Russian.
  • An ornate photo of Vladimir Putin with the inscription, “To Donny with Love, Vlad.”
  • A shredded copy of the United States Constitution.
  • Numerous containers of hair spray/extra -hold mousse, along with tanning lotion.
  • A tanning bed.
  • Numerous heel lifts and girdles.
  • An autographed book entitled, The Easiest Way to Cheat at Golf (and not be caught).
  • A fake Nobel Peace Prize.
  • Order of State, highest national order of the Republic of Turkey.
  • A phony Certificate of Membership in the Mensa organization.
  • Made up college transcripts showing nothing but A’s.
  • An X-ray showing someone else’s bone spurs.”

—Ross Meyer (US Air Force Ret.), speculating on the location and contents of a Trump Presidential Library.

“We went back and forth, then we fell in love. He wrote me beautiful letters, and they’re great letters. We fell in love.”

—Creepy Donald Trump, on his June 2018 meeting with North Korea’s “pretty smarty cookie” Kim Jong Un.

 

“Get rid of them. You don’t have this problem in Russia. We have it, you don’t.”

—Donald Trump, to Vladimir Putin on freedom of the press, June 28, 2019.

 

“He’s the head of a country, and I mean he’s the strong head. Don’t let anyone think anything different. He speaks, and his people sit up at attention. I want my people to do the same.”

—Donald Trump, on Kim Jong Un, June 2018.

How much of a threat is the coronavirus to Louisiana’s population?

According to 24/7 Wall Street, the survey company that publishes statistics and trends on just about every known subject of interest to Americans, it depends.

For at-risk adults over the age of 60, the news is pretty good. For those ages 18-60, not so much. For adults at-risk because of age and/or medical conditions, it’s a little on the more high side, compared to other states.

Results published by the nonprofit health care policy organization Kaiser Family Foundation concluded that the data confirm the need to take “unprecedented efforts to minimize the spread of the coronavirus,” according to the 24/7 report.

The study indicates that Louisiana adults over 60 out of all at-risk adults have a 67.2 percent chance of contracting the virus, the second-lowest rate in the nation. Lowest was Arkansas, at 66.9 percent while Vermont was highest at 79.7 percent.

The news wasn’t nearly so good for Louisiana citizens in the 18-60 at-risk age group. While the overall rate of 20.0 percent appears relatively low when compared to those 60 and over, their rate actually was sixth-highest in the nation. West Virginia was highest for that age group at 24.9 percent, followed by Arkansas (22.3 percent) and Alabama (21.6 percent). Minnesota was lowest at 12.4 percent.

For adults at-risk because of age or medical conditions, Louisiana was 19th highest at 43.2 percent. Lowest was Utah at 33.5 percent.

Louisiana’s poverty rate of 18.6 percent was third highest in the nation, exceeded only by New Mexico (second highest at 19.5 percent) and Mississippi (highest, at 19.7 percent). New Hampshire had the lowest poverty rate (7.6 percent).

The data compiled for the report included adults 18 and older and represented adults who reported being told by a physician that they have one of the listed conditions: heart disease, diabetes, and lung disease. Data excluded those living in nursing homes and other institutional settings

Approximately 41% of U.S. adults ages 18 and older (105.5 million people) are at greater risk of serious illness if they become infected with the virus that causes COVID-19. An estimated additional 1.3 million people living in nursing homes are not only at high risk of serious illness but also of the virus spreading faster because of their dense, communal living conditions.

An estimated 5.7 million adults who are at higher risk of getting a serious illness if they become infected with the novel coronavirus are uninsured, including 3.9 million adults under age 60 and 1.8 million who are ages 60-64.