Looking out the front window these days shows us a weird world out there.
The usual traffic patterns down our street have changed to infrequent sights of vehicles.
On Sundays the strange view is an empty street where usually churchgoers compete for parking spots. The church across the street has a sign saying closed on the front door.
On school days, the parking lot for the school down the street is empty as is the street usually jammed with parents dropping off and picking up students. What we saw as a nuisance is missed.
On a rare drive down the once busy streets of Moose Jaw, it is disquieting to see hardly any traffic. Gas bars, once bustling with re-fueling vehicles, have plenty of open spots.
Our favourite downtown restaurant has no lights on, now closed. Shuttered businesses greet drivers all the way down Main Street.
One is reminded of early days on the farm in the middle of nowhere when winter set in. During the worst months of winter a weekly trip into town, often on horseback, was the family’s only contact with the outside world — that and the radio, played only at news time to save juice in the precious lead battery.
We had a fence phone connecting with four other neighbours, once again used sparingly to save the battery in the old wooden wall phone.
Today, with all the communications technology powered by continual electric current, those days seem odd.
We live in the same eerie situation as then, except we are in a city of 36,000 souls with access to immediate communications.
Without smart phones, without the internet, we would be even more isolated in this social/physical distancing stay-at-home mode.
As we enter the fourth week of stay-at-home life, we ponder about the heroes in our midst.
We have always admired the men and women in the jobs of police and firefighters for the uncertain dangers they experience on the job.
Veterans and those serving in the military are counted among our heroes. Although people joining the military in the two world wars often had no idea of what they were getting into.
Some joined to support king and country, some joined to get three square meals a day, shelter and some cash to send home, some joined for adventure, some joined because others were, something like the toilet paper buying craze of today.
This pandemic has shown a new set of heroes, frequently taken for granted — health care workers. They know the risks out there but are on the job, staring into the face of infection, to help others.
And they don’t give up even though they know they or some of them or their colleagues will become sick. Some will die.
The pandemic has shown other classes of hero — the employees from retail clerks, cleaners and truckers to businesses. Without them, we would be unable to buy the food, fuel and all the other furbishments we acquire.
Words alone aren’t enough thanks.
The pandemic shows how dependent communities and countries have become on each other.
Ron Walter can be reached at ronjoy@sasktel.net
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect the position of this publication.
