The Suffield Observer (https://thesuffieldobserver.com/category/columns/suffield-observations/)
About 20 years ago, I volunteered for a political campaign and put a huge campaign sign on my West Hartford lawn. Before I knew it, my yard became a magnet for every other candidate’s lawn sign and it looked like a hodgepodge of political tag sales.
My dad died. He was in an assisted living facility outside Orlando, Florida, caught the coronavirus, and nine days later his heart stopped beating. He was 77.
Connecticut and the other states in the Northeast did a great job flattening the coronavirus curve and beating back the worst pandemic in 100 years. And, little by little, life feels like it’s getting back to normal – at least in this part of the country.
This is my second attempt at writing something about the outrage that has engulfed our nation in the wake of George Floyd’s killing at the hands of Minneapolis, Minn., police.
I do my best to get along and go along. I’m not some kind of incorrigible troublemaker. If there are rules or procedures put in place, I’ll comply.
Thirty-five years ago, I worked in a mailroom at a company outside New York City. It was a busy job, but it afforded wonderfully long breaks twice a day where employees would drink coffee and chit-chat.
In 2013, workers digging a new high-speed rail underneath London unearthed a 14-century plague pit holding 25 victims of the Black Death. The discovery allowed researchers to extract DNA from the victims’ teeth and identify the deadly disease — Yersinia Pestis, which surprisingly is still around and simply treated by antibiotics.
I usually don’t miss opportunities to vote. I view the act of voting a secular sacrament. As with other faiths that issue calls to prayer, when the sign on the green summons Suffieldians to vote, I am compelled to respond.
A family I know recently traveled to Iceland to see an aurora borealis, also known as the northern lights. Unfortunately, just because you head north doesn’t mean you’re going to see the light, which is what befell that band of ambitious travelers.
You are not going to change the world from the holiday dinner table or party.