Learning from 1918’s pandemic. Or not.

Bill Knight column for 4-27, 28 or 29, 2020

In 1905, philosopher George Santayana in “The Life of Reason” wrote, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

As the world copes with COVID-19, it would seem helpful to consider past plagues, especially 1918, when, as now, some moments were magic and others tragic. It’s especially relevant as Georgia Gov. Brian Kemp reopened many places there (days after the Pentagon announced extending the military travel ban from May 11 to June 30).

Strict orders on closings and social distancing in 1918 helped a post-plague economic recovery, according to research by an MIT professor and two Federal Reserve economists.

“Areas that acted early and aggressively with non-pharmaceutical interventions do not perform worse economically, at least in the medium term. If anything, they actually come out of the pandemic stronger,” said MIT’s Emil Verner, lead author with the Fed’s Sergio Correia and Stephan Luck. “Lifting restrictions too early could make the economy worse by leading to a resurgence of the virus in an even more destructive pandemic.

“We have to defeat the disease before the economy can go back to normal.”

Now, as then, anxious Americans want to stay safe, and eager people chafing under limitations also want to go out and resume their routines. Also similar, says “The Great Influenza” author John M. Barry, in 1918 “leaders were saying things like, ‘You have nothing to fear if proper precautions are taken’.”

In that pandemic 102 years ago, life continued in some form. Major League Baseball played a shortened  season, with the Cubs losing the World Series to the Red Sox, led by 23-year-old Babe Ruth, a hard-hitting pitcher who contracted the Spanish flu in May, bounced back to play, but was stricken again in October and recovered, then was traded to the Yankees.

Bestselling books that year included Booth Tarkington’s “The Magnificent Ambersons” and the first publication of “Elements of Style” by William Strunk Jr. Top records in 1918 included Enrico Caruso’s version of “Over There,” by George M. Cohan, and Al Jolson’s “Rock-A-Bye Your Baby with A Dixie Melody.” In the early movie industry, the first adaptation of “Tarzan of The Apes” grossed about $1 million, and Charlie Chaplin’s silent comedy “Shoulder Arms” came out shortly before World War I’s armistice. On stage, the Marx Brothers, living in LaGrange, Ill., performed the vaudeville circuit, and this month in 1918, they played six days in Chicago, followed by seven dates in St. Louis, and then shows in Champaign, Davenport and Rockford. They’d play before theater crowds in face masks and sitting in every other seat in alternate rows to practice social distancing.

Like today, some people were uninformed or decided to ignore doctors and go on as if there were no danger from the disease. Government censors on both sides of the war minimized reporting on influenza and its death rate globally to avoid distracting from war efforts. However, Spain was neutral in the war, so journalists there weren’t prohibited from reporting on the outbreak, and with their coverage the disease began to be called the “Spanish Flu.”

With more media since, people get more information, and multiple polls show about 60% of the nation remains worried about getting infected and lifting restrictions too soon.

In 1918, there were cries to return to “normalcy” regardless of medical advice, and under pressure some places relaxed restrictions and reopened many shuttered businesses. The flu did seem to fade that summer, but it returned forcefully in a few months, causing health officials to again ask people to avoid public gathering and isolate themselves. (Its resurgence was swift. In Hartford, Ct., for example, 13 cases were reported Sept. 20 and the next day there were 500; in October, 195,000 Americans died from the virus.)

Presently, state leaders such as Illinois Gov. J.B. Pritzker and medical experts say reopening will require massive testing, tracing contacts and treating or quarantining as needed. But South Carolina, Tennessee and Texas may follow Kemp’s example in Georgia, which has some 21,000 cases and 850 deaths.

Recently writing in The Week magazine, Joel Mathis said, “It is possible that by trying to get Georgia back to business, Kemp could create the conditions for a new outbreak of COVID-19 while the local economy remains in the doldrums.”

As activist/scholar Noam Chomsky said, “There’s a good reason why nobody studies history.  It just teaches you too much.”

‘Mourn for the dead, fight for the living’

Bill Knight column for 4-23, 24 or 25, 2020

The annual Workers Memorial Day next week will be even more depressing and infuriating than usual, as the coronavirus makes virtually all work unsafe. Also, April 28 may come and go with no assemblies to honor the fallen since those who typically commemorate the labor force’s losses will abide by recommendations to avoid gatherings.

But it will be impossible to neglect the illnesses and deaths surrounding us.

Health-care workers are as heroic as other first responders, and so are “essential workers,” as determined by authorities such as Illinois Gov. J.B. Pritzker.

Medscape.com is maintaining a running list of more than 100 health-care workers who’ve died as a result of COVID-19. At press time, they range from A to Z, from New Orleans nurse Larrice Anderson to Oceanside, N.Y., pediatrician Jesus Zambrano. Search for “In memoriam. Medscape.com.”

Besides health-care services, Pritzker said essential workers in our communities include grocery employees, mail and shipping workers, construction, utility crews, garbage and recycling workers, media personnel, gas stations, hardware-store workers, teachers working from a distance, laundry workers, and cooks and wait staff at restaurants for take-out food.

“The vast majority of workers who are deemed essential are poorly paid, or otherwise treated with disdain,” said Katie Barrows of the non-profit Action Network. “Grocery-store workers, sanitation workers, utility workers, and, of course, health-care workers, have always been the backbone of our country. These workers are heroes and deserve more than just gratitude – they deserve proper safety equipment and hazard pay during the coronavirus crisis, along with raises, respect and strong unions when social distancing is over.”

Apart from other workplace accidents and injuries, a sampling of fatalities due to the pandemic include Illinois unionists Edward Singleton, a firefighter, and Darrell Jones, an Amalgamated Transit Union worker, plus Autoworkers at Fiat Chrysler plants in Michigan, and 23-year Bronx Letter Carrier Rakkhon Kim. The AFL-CIO has an online tribute to the many casualties, such as Los Angeles Boilermaker Oscar Davila, Miami nurse and SEIU member Araceli Buendia Ilagan, and Kentucky bricklayer ARon Jordan. Search for “In Memoriam: Union Members Lost in COVID-19 Pandemic.”

Elsewhere, the White House’s emphasis, or obsession, with the economy seems at odds with shelter-at-home advice by scientists, and at the expense of the health of workers and customers alike.

Staying at home and similar actions are the most effective defenses against transmission of the deadly virus, and though millions are losing jobs, lives must be the priority.

Astonishingly, President Trump said the costs of shutting down businesses outweigh the benefits.

“The cure cannot be worse (by far) than the problem!” he tweeted March 24.

Lisa Heinzerling, who worked to balance environmental-protections and their economic consequences during a stint with the Obama administration, forcefully disagreed.

“It doesn’t help to save the economy if a tremendous number of people have died or fallen ill and their lives are changed forever,” she told the Associated Press.

Further, the extent of COVID-19 infections remains unknown because of the federal government’s failure to make tests available, according to the Retail, Wholesale and Department Store Union.

There are brighter spots. The labor federation is pressing the Occupational Safety and Health Administration to enact emergency standards – which aren’t part of the Coronavirus Aid, Relief and Economic Security (CARES) Act. Steelworkers Local 366 at the American Roots clothing manufacturer in Westbrook, Maine, is one example of many meaningful responses to the needs of this crisis, as they re-tooled to produce medical masks and other critically needed supplies. Another is a donation of N95 respirators and other protective equipment like face shields to a Des Moines hospital by members of the International Association of Sheet Metal, Air, Rail and Transportation Workers (SMART) Local 45 and Sheet Metal Contractors of Iowa.

Also, though new unemployment numbers in recent weeks topped 22 million, Illinois the last month averaged about 158,000 per week, one of the lowest states in the country, according to Diana Polk of WalletHub, which tracks economic developments. Most of Illinois jobless unemployment claims have been in “accommodation and food services, health care and social assistance, and manufacturing, according to the U.S. Labor Department.

For resources, particularly of interest to regular working people, search “Federal and State Resources for Workers” “aflcio.org.”

‘Safe at home’ - new meaning and old

Bill Knight column for Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday, 4-20, 21 or 22, 2020

As this is written, Major League Baseball is sheltering at home as it celebrates Jackie Robinson Day, and forecasts call for snow in Illinois. It’s been five weeks since the season was postponed, and there’s speculation of all 30 teams playing in empty Arizona stadiums with athletes tested and quarantined before games that could be shortened to seven innings with frequent double-headers.

The National Pastime is missed, in many ways, mostly memories of watching and playing for decades.

After all, as Lawrence Ritter, author of “The Glory of Their Times,” wrote, “The strongest thing that baseball has going for it today are its yesterdays.”

Indeed, I saw Jackie Robinson play at old Sportsmen’s Park in St. Louis in May of 1956, when the World Champion Brooklyn Dodgers lost to the Cardinals 10-3, and Robinson went 2 for 4, including a double, plus an RBI (although this six-year-old country boy was mostly impressed by city buses belching dark diesel smoke, guys shouting “Beer man!” to ballpark vendors, and Dad leaning over and saying, “Jackie Robinson hit that!” when a foul ball careened off a girder overhead).

For generations, baseball’s been family. For me, Grandpa and his brothers played as young men in Moberly, Mo.; townspeople for years reminded me of my Dad’s over-the-shoulder, centerfield catch of a deep fly at a fast-pitch league game; and after a family-reunion lunch of fried chicken, potato salad and pie, I remember catching an adult uncle throwing sliders that hit my glove hand like hot hornets.

I still picture pitching behind the family garage to Dad, who taught me a curve, and years later playing catch in our backyard with my son, who had the best instincts and softest hands of any first-baseman I knew.

My own little league experience pitching and playing first base were fun summers of contrasts: hitting the 11-year-old league’s only over-the-fence homer until I gave up a round-tripper the last week of the season, and the next year sitting out the season’s start with the mumps. Pony League summers are a blur except for one 19-4 season, playing in t-shirts and jeans, and riding on rural roads in coach’s car listening to Chuck Berry on the radio.

In high school, I relied on my knuckleball, an “old man’s pitch” that got me a lot of innings in relief to our schools’ two fireballers. In college, we played Chicago-style 16-inch “kitten ball,” and after graduation there were great years of 9-inch park-district slow-pitch in western and central Illinois for teams sponsored by Schlocky’s, Underdogs, Co-op Tapes & Records, Five Star Vending, and the Prairie SUN. The only time my visiting parents saw me play I hit a home run at a bandbox field on Peoria’s south side – but as tiny as it was, no one else hit one out that afternoon. (Just sayin’).

I played hardball again when I celebrated turning 40 by spending a great week in Arizona playing with Ron Santo, Glenn Beckert and Billy Williams, plus Randy Hundley, Jimmy Piersall and other big-leaguers.

I took a break from playing to help coach my kid’s youth-league teams, treasured time on small-town sandlots. Later, there were a few more years of slow-pitch in a Seniors League, until I pulled a hamstring and then an Achilles tendon.

Now in retirement, I reminisce and wait, longing for the sounds of horsehide smacked off wood bats, the smell of leather and mowed grass and sweat, and the sights of a 6-4-3 double play or a clean cutoff throw headed to a play at the plate.

Memories can be melancholy, too, but not as sad as a dangerous virus. I crave the game but know public-health takes priority over playtime, much less profits.

Writing in Sports Illustrated the year I saw Jackie Robinson, Pulitzer Prize-winning writer William Saroyan perhaps put it best, saying, “Baseball is caring. Player and fan alike must care, or there is no game. If there's no game, there's no pennant race and no World Series. And for all any of us know there might soon be no nation at all.  Is it a game? Is that all it is? ... What good does that do the nation? What good does that do the world?

“A little good. Quite a little.”