“The Morning After”: There’s got to be a morning after if we can hold on through the night. We have a chance to find the sunshine. Let’s keep on looking for the light.

“Oh, can’t you see the morning after? It’s waiting right outside the storm. Why don’t we cross the bridge together. And find a place that’s safe and warm? ... ” written by Al Kusha and Joel Hirschhorn, theme song from the movie “The Poseidon Adventure.”

The world as we knew it turned upside down in March.

A novel (new) coronavirus, COVID-19, (SARS-CoV-2) began to make headlines in broadcast and written news reports.

People were dying. Hospitals were running out of ICU beds, gowns, masks and swabs.

There were not enough ventilators, and PPE (personal protective equipment) became an acronym we all have become familiar with.

On March 13, Gov. Tom Wolf announced that, effective March 16, all Pennsylvania schools would be closed for 10 business days. Schools, however, have not been open since.

But, school district administrators, teachers and parents worked harder than could have been imagined just a day earlier. Classes were taught online, and while not traditional, the seniors did graduate - virtually and with drive-by and socially distanced ceremonies.

Wolf ordered all non-life-sustaining businesses to close as of 8 p.m. March 19.

Hair salons, restaurants and bars were closed, as were malls, clothing stores, museums and indoor movie theaters.

Wolf’s stay-at-home order was expanded to Lehigh and Northampton counties on March 25. Two days later, Berks County was added.

Heads of households lost their jobs. For many families, rent and mortgage payments went unpaid so food could be bought and the lights could remain on.

Fourteen-day quarantines were strongly suggested for anyone coming in contact with a person who was COVID-19 positive.

Slowly, Wolf allowed certain areas of the commonwealth to reopen with restrictions imposed.

Outdoor dining was allowed; businesses could have a limited number of customers inside.

All were advised to wear face masks, to socially distance at least 6 feet from others and to wash, wash, wash their hands.

Tape marks showing the 6-foot distance suddenly appeared on store floors. Aisles were labeled as one way.

Employees, essential workers at stores, wiped down shopping carts before giving them to the next customers.

Essential businesses began to require temperature checks before allowing workers and customers into the building. Workers were required to wear masks as they sat at their desks.

Drive-in movie theaters, a staple of the 1950s, made a resurgence.

For some time, COVID-positive numbers across the country dropped or remained steady.

Then, people began to do what they wanted to do - not what they needed to do.

Warmer weather arrived. People openly rebelled against wearing masks.

They attended parties, went to the beach, gathered in the streets.

And, the positive coronavirus case numbers and hospitalizations of the very ill began to rise.

California and Florida are now hot spots for the virus with sunbathers crowding the beaches and walking along boardwalks shoulder to shoulder.

ICU beds and PPEs are once again in short supply in those areas.

In Pennsylvania, schools are expected to open at the end of August or beginning of September.

Again, school administrators, teachers and parents are putting their heads together to find a way for students to receive a quality education. What classes will look like at this point is anyone’s guess.

Risks and rewards will be weighed. How safe will the kids be? How safe will the teachers be? How much learning would be lost through strictly online instruction? Will education be a hybrid of in-class and online instruction?

Just as the passengers on the S.S. Poseidon found themselves in a world turned upside down when the ship was hit by a huge tidal wave, so we find ourselves now after being hit by an infinitesimal, yet deadly virus.

Stay at home, if you can. Wear a face mask and socially distance when out in public. And wash, wash, wash your hands.

We all need to do our best to right this ship we call home.

Deb Palmieri

editor

Parkland Press

Northwestern Press