Like any self-respecting person who has ever lived in a small town, I'm always curious about a traffic back-up. Accident? Parade? Brad Pitt is in town? Free samples at the candy store?
This morning, traffic was backed up in both directions on the big street by my home, with police cars at every intersection. Weird. There's never any traffic these days. I could see the police officers at my corner, and the next corner, and the next one, directing traffic. The helicopter overhead made me think it was an accident. Curiosity pulled me out of the house and up the street, where I finally realized what I was seeing. I was so blown away that I started to cry, gasping sobs, behind the mask and sunglasses. People were sitting in their cars, backed up for over a mile in each direction, coming for the food distribution at the high school. Moms and kids, single people, older folks, all waiting patiently in their cars.
As I turned around at the top of the hill, a police officer moved into the street, and started walking from car to car, tapping on the window of each one. "You have to move on," she said. "The entrance is closed."
In between cars, I turned to her and asked, "Did they run out of food?"
"Yes." She looked like she was ready to cry, too. Only the structure of the job was saving her from her own sobs.
The helicopter kept flying overhead, circling, incessantly present. Someone’s idea of a way to keep order, I wonder? Not the news, after all.
Watching the line of cars in every direction, I realized that I had no idea how awful things really are right now.
Whatever I thought I knew about the impact of COVID-19 on the economy, I was wrong. Whatever I understood about the number of hungry people, it's deeper. Whatever I thought I knew about the number of people on the edge, it's so much bigger. In your town and mine. This isn’t going to be solved when barber shops open up, or when we can sit six feet apart in a restaurant. This isn’t going to go away when we can wander around Target, or buy a tennis racket, or go to the pool. It will be easier for us to forget, though.