Portraits of a Pandemic

My former Palm Beach Post Chief Photographer is going to be disappointed. Every May 4, John J. Lopinot sends me a cryptic two-word message: “Never Forget.” He and I both know what he’s referring to – the killing of four students at Kent State 50 years ago. I haven’t forgotten, but this might be the last post on the topic.

Bear with me. I’ll get around to the point in a bit. With advanced age comes forgiveness for meandering.

2015 The Sky Has Fallen exhibit

Sky Has Fallen exhibit opening 04-17-2015

In the spring of 2015, Curator Jessica and I put together a major photo exhibit on the protest era at Ohio University for the Southeast Ohio History Center. The title of the show came from what has become Ohio University Post legend.

After a night of rioting two weeks after Kent State, the decision was made to close the university. The student newspaper, The Post, was on a hard deadline to get the story in print. Just before it hit the presses, someone said, “We don’t have a weather report for tomorrow.”

Editor Andy Alexander, a darned good journalist then and now, said, “Just write, ‘The sky has fallen.’”

A journey to Kent State

Kent State 08-25-2014

Jessica and I paid a visit to the Kent State May 4 Visitor’s Center to see how they handled the event and to see if there was any way we could collaborate with other Ohio museums for the 50th anniversary.

‘I didn’t want to be eating grass when I died’

Our guide was a fellow in a wheelchair who could glide up the hills of the grounds as fast as I could walk up them.

We were halfway through our tour when I realized the man was Dean Kahler, one of the students who had survived being shot that day. I hadn’t prepared to shoot a video, but I managed to capture his haunting tale. It was one of the most moving interviews I’ve ever done.

“I knew I had been shot because it felt like a bee sting. I knew immediately because my legs got real tight, then they relaxed just like in zoology class when you pith a frog,” he said. He never walked again, but he has turned into a highly competitive wheelchair athlete.

After the shooting stopped, he called out to see if there were any Boy Scouts around who could turn him over. “The only thought that came into my head was if I was turned over, would I bleed more internally than externally? I thought (shrugs shoulders) there’s a 50 / 50 chance that you’re going to die one way or the other. I knew I might die. I had a really good chance of dying, so I wanted to see the sky, the sun, leaves, peoples faces. I didn’t want to be eating grass when I died.”

What are we going to do for the anniversary?

Ohio University Protests

Jessica and I wondered how we were going to mark the 2020 anniversary of the event. What could we do that would add a new dimension to what we had already done?

I suggested reaching out to some Athens county residents and assembling a panel to talk about what they remembered. Not long after that, Jessica became a new mother, and we didn’t talk as often as we once did. I suspect she had barely enough energy to take care of ONE baby.

When the world changed because of COVID-19, I said, “I guess I don’t need to work to get a 50th anniversary show catalog to the printer, do I?”

1970 and 2020

She said she didn’t have any idea when they’d be able to open the museum, but it certainly wouldn’t be by May 4.

Then she said something that gave me pause: “There are a lot of similarities between 1970 and 2020. In both years, the university closed, graduation was cancelled, and the town emptied of students.

How about I come back to Athens?

After thinking about it for a couple days, I tossed out an idea: how about I come back to Athens to shoot a Portrait of the Pandemic? I will have missed the mass evacuation, but I could still document the empty streets, people in masks (or not), signage, anything that will help paint the picture of 2020, much like I had done with the turmoil and teargas of the ’60 and ’70s?

I still have the gas mask

I mean, I still had the gas mask Ed Pieratt shot my photo wearing during the riots. I could dust it off again.

I’m in the middle of reading John M. Barry’s excellent book, The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History. (He also wrote Rising Tide: The Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 and How It Changed America, a book I’ve read three times, and learned something new each time.)

Sign in Jackson, Mo., funeral home

That book has scared the bejeebers out of me because I’m in at least 2-1/2 of the high-risk categories. The more and more I read about governors opening up their states before we are anywhere near sure we are out of the woods, the more uncomfortable I became with the idea of driving 528 miles one-way to photograph people on the street.

When I was trying to justify the idea to some friends, I said that I had spent most of my life running into places other people were running out of. I may have made some bad judgments in retrospect, but I never made them without considering the risks.

It was time to do some serious risk analysis before jumping into this project.

In the end, I told Jessica that I’m not 21 years old anymore. I’ve dodged bullets in my life (literally), but I didn’t think it was prudent for me to risk what’s left of my days. I still have lots of film to scan.

I’m practicing social distancing

I’m trying to limit the number of places I shop, I wear a mask, and try not to have much contact with other people. The latter reason is why the only person I photographed wearing a mask was me at the top of the page.

Here are some images from stores in the Cape Girardeau area (plus some masks a friend left taped to my front door). You can click on any of them, then use your arrow keys to move through the gallery.

Vistors DO come by the house

Phoebe – Deer 05-02-2020

I’m not completely isolated. I parted the curtains to see Phoebe the feral cat and a couple deer visitors the other night. They weren’t wearing masks, but they were observing proper social distancing.

Previous May 4 posts

Here’s a list of stories and photos I’ve posted about the Kent State and protest era over the years. I’m not sure if I’ll be adding to it. Sorry, Lopi.

Seed Pods & Trinity Lutheran School

I looked down at the ground this week and saw something that transported me back to grade school days on the playground at Trinity Lutheran School.

Maple tree seed pods

The little seeds would auto-rotate down like a helicopter whose engine had quit. It was nature’s nifty way to make sure the seeds were distributed over a wide area.

You could get an ear full of them, too

When the seeds had just fallen, and you squeezed them just right, you could sneak up to a buddy and give him an earful of juice.

Before long, the whole playground was full of little squirts giving little squirts to little squirts until a teacher intervened.

I can see sitting in detention when the miscreant next to you whispers, “What are you in for?”

“Assault with a Maple seed.” Not exactly something that earns you playground cred.

Maples and Redbuds Come First

The maple trees and redbuds are the first trees to come alive in the spring. The walnut trees are more conservative: they want to make sure the cold weather is gone for good before they come out of hibernation.

(Speaking of hibernation, I was moving a stack of old walnut logs the other day and disturbed three snakes. They were harmless garter snakes who moved slow until they realized there was a reason the sun was suddenly beating down on them.

The Indomitable Redbud Tree

A quick-moving windstorm last summer split an aging redbud tree in the back yard and laid it low. Since it stayed green until winter, and it was popular with visiting deer, I decided to wait until spring to cut it up.

Much to my surprise, even though it’s barely holding onto the stump by a thread, it bloomed out like crazy. One at the side of the house next to the porch did a great job of catching the late afternoon sun. You can click on it to make it larger.

Tulips and The Witch

Spring is my favorite time of the year. It’s a time of rebirth and promise, while the flashier Fall is fleeting and brings with it cold weather, dark days and bare trees.

I had a pleasant surprise when I walked outside the other morning. The front planter was alive with red and yellow tulips. I’d like to take credit for them, but it’s obvious from all the dead grass from last summer that I had nothing to do with their success.

The Witch in the Window is a symbol of my self-quarantine. (OK, so I put it up at Halloween a year ago and never took it down, but the thought is there.)

Radio Shack, I Miss You

Radio Shack batteries bought 02-22-2015 in WPB

I had to shoot a video the other day. My routine is to charge up all the camera batteries, clean off the memory cards, swap out the digital recorder batteries, and to make sure the remote mikes work.

When I was doing the mike check, I found that one of the button batteries was dead, so I reached into my battery stash, confident that I had at least three spares. My confidence was a bit shaken when I saw the once-familiar Radio Shack emblem.

How old ARE those?

I thought back a bit and remembered that I had stocked up on odds and ends when the West Palm Beach Radio Shack close to the house was going out of business in February of 2015.

That made the cells a bit long in the tooth, particularly since all of them looked like some innards gunk had oozed out over the years.

Nowhere like it left

Radio Shack lost its way over the years. It wasn’t sure if it was a source of cheap electronic components, a toy store or a cellphone retailer. In the end, it became none of those.

Still, I can’t think of anyplace where I can pop in for some oddball piece or part. I like places like the Best Buy in Cape for consumer goods, but you can’t get components there.

More Rat Shacks than Mickey D’s?

I read somewhere in the ’70s that there were more Radio Shack stores in the USA than McDonald’s. Even though almost all of them carried the same thing, I found myself browsing in stores wherever I traveled. It might be for tips on what radio frequencies to monitor or for wiring and connectors to make my gizmos work.

If nothing else, there was always one salesdroid who possessed a bit of the geek to nerd out with.

P.S. I ended up having to order replacement batteries from Amazon.