Pandemic makes April cruel again

This post was published in the Wilson Times May 8, 2020.

Fourteen years ago, I wrote a column for The Wilson Daily Times titled “Don’t Call April Cruel.” I chided T.S. Eliot for calling April “The Cruelest Month” in his most famous poem, “The Waste Land.”

A few days before the column was published on April 8, 2006, my wife and I had sat on the deck in the back of our house and took in the beauty of spring in eastern North Carolina. Dogwoods, forsythia, azaleas and daffodils were all blooming within our sight lines. Looking at the freshly mowed green grass accented with budding flowers, I wondered how Eliot could call a month so lovely “cruel.”

Eliot accused April of “breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.” Bright flowers never last. They wilt and die. All beauty is ephemeral, here today, gone tomorrow. But I just couldn’t agree with Eliot that April is cruel.

Now, 14 Aprils and at least one April tornado later, I’m beginning to see the cruelty of April in a way that the poet never did. April of 2020 has been cruel in hundreds of thousands of ways. A pandemic, sparked by an odd virus has killed about a quarter million people worldwide. North Carolina, still sparkling with April blooms, has recorded more than 400 deaths from the disease.

As of earlier this week, 69,000 Americans have died from the Corona Virus. That is more than all of the Americans killed in the Vietnam War. COVID-19 deaths are especially cruel; family members cannot visit a loved one on his/her deathbed. Traditional funerals are forbidden because they attract more than 10 people, creating a crowd that can spread the virus.

“Normal” life has come to a close. Efforts to contain the rapidly spreading virus have escalated from “social distancing” and frequent hand washing to closed schools, mandatory closing of restaurants, bars and other “non-essential” businesses. People you know are wearing facemasks to prevent spreading the invisible virus. Millions are out of work because their businesses closed or laid them off. Thirty million Americans have filed for unemployment benefits.

This April has brought out the best and the worst in us. Millions of healthcare workers are risking their own lives to treat and comfort sick patients. People are looking out for their neighbors. Families, unable to visit loved ones’ homes, are adopting video technology to create “virtual visits” with parents, children, grandchildren and others.

And the worst: Our divided politics have been ripped further asunder. Family celebrations (weddings, funerals, birthdays and anniversaries) have had to be canceled or postponed. Business owners eager to reopen their shops have chosen profits over their neighbors’ and employees’ right to live. Some “liberate” protesters carried assault weapons into the Michigan State Capitol, apparently to intimidate the state workers and elected officials there. Loud insults and implied threats have added to the cruelty of this pandemic

Perhaps cruelest of all is this: We don’t know this virus’ life cycle. Can it be stopped by the measures already undertaken? Will a relaxing of these measures invite a second wave of COVID-19 later this year? Will the insidious virus become a seasonal threat, leaving us to fight the virus month after month, year after year? Will our lives, our schedules, our workplaces, our businesses, our nonprofits, our churches, our schools, our arts and culture change drastically and permanently because of a virus that is only visible through electron microscopes?

Instead of worrying about the cruelty of April, we could have 12 cruel months every year.