I was never locked down.
I designated myself an “essential worker” and continued my office IT job as always, as did all my coworkers. I continued shopping at the Food Co-op, where no one wore masks during those early months and few if any got sick (borne out by food worker union statistics). I continued participating in regular services inside my church as part of a skeleton livestreaming crew. I found streets strange with few humans or cars but more wildlife.
When the initial extreme lockdowns eased, things paradoxically got harder for those never locked-down as mask and vax mandates began rolling out. Soon after reopening, Room to Move Yoga and the Rose Theatre excluded everyone unwilling to “show papers”, maintaining restrictions above and beyond Health Department orders to this day.
As even Farmers Markets set up checkpoints to impose outdoor masking, the unlocked-down responded with joyous weekly freedom rallies, walkouts, and protest marches. Community resistance continues through outlets like the Free Press and Health Freedom Information network gatherings.
Public arts took a nose dive, but a few venues provided relief. Throughout much of the lockdowns, the only cinema open to all was the naturally (un)socially-distanced Wheel-In Motor Movie drive-in theatre, joined recently by its companion Uptown Theatre reopening with a brighter new screen.
When the Wooden Boat Festival was cancelled, the neighboring Artful Sailor stepped up with its “Woulda Been a Boat Festival” featuring music from classic rock band Greased Lightning. They are again offering a free Sock Hop by the skate park this Saturday, April 30 from 5-7pm.
Most heartening for me during this time of lockdowns has been my church continuing to keep its doors open with worship practices and soulful joyous choir music as unchanged as possible. That has thankfully translated into strong parish growth both here and in churches around the country that stayed open and focused on in-person services.
These were a few of my personal touchstones that might still have general relevance today. Outwardly I’ve mostly had it easy due to my independent nature and circumstances, but inwardly these past two years have been extremely disillusioning and disconcerting, yet laced with silver linings.
Everybody has their own lockdown story. If you’d like to share yours, feel free to post it in the comments section or submit it as an article.
Stephen Schumacher graduated with honors in Mathematics from Harvard College and programmed funds transfer systems between Wall Street banks and the Federal Reserve before moving to Port Townsend in 1983. He has served as an officer for various community organizations such as the Food Co-op, Jefferson Land Trust, and the Northwest Nutritional Foods Association. He co-created The Port Townsend Leader’s original online newspaper and programs ship stability software used by naval architects.
Thank you for this wonderful message of resilience in the face of ridiculousness! Your article reminded me of some positive things I’ve tended to forget with the passage of time and all the negativity. Thanks and keep up the good work!
Stephen, Thank you for the article. I wonder upon re-examination and for the next fear-driven phantom that appears
to re-model our way of life; will it be any different? I recently decided to strike back, live more boldly and re-invent myself in direct defiance to what was seemingly undernourished personally during the “pandemic”. I was finally going to sign-up for classes at the Port Townsend School of Woodworking. I was greeted by the large banner announcing the updated Covid Policy, PTSW requires a vaccination. Foolish me, and my naive optimism that the hypnotic fog was lifting, and possibly the psychological terrain had experienced enough.
Thank You Stephen, always thoughtful always researched always enjoyable.
R.W.
This whole COVID thing upset me as previous sickness never received the worry and reaction from the medical profession of previous ones. Also, I was having trouble with the fact that you had to wear a mask to enter an establishment, but once seated you didn’t need one. I could only think that if you were a midget you shouldn’t have to wear a mask because you would be below the area where the virus lurked.
I was also an officer in the American Legion and I could only go in for meetings. I could order a drink from the bar, but would have to have it brought to meeting hall by the bartender. I was very vocal about that I wouldn’t have the shot. Others came in that also didn’t have the shot, but didn’t let everyone know. I understood why the Bar Manager enforced this and I went along with it. The one thing that stuck in my mind was my comrades would offer to buy me drinks because they missed me. It was a very hard time for me, but I stood my ground at insanity.
The other thing was that the Roadhouse never enforced the masks or “social distancing”. Several of us would meet in the mornings for coffee, often pulling out another table so all of us could be on one table. When one night the powers to be wanted everyone who received the shot should have a card to get in I heard of what was said to have happened when the Card Nazi’s showed up at the door. The owner was told they were there. He went to meet them at the door and they told him that they were there to check the patrons’ cards. He asked to see their cards and they said they didn’t have one. He told them that he was sorry, but he couldn’t let them in without a card. They left and never came back.
I further get a kick out of people driving in their own cars with a mask on. I would hate to be that scared. I now shudder what they will think of when the next Virus hits us.