Memories of a Changing World
COVID-19 OUTBREAK
MONDAY, MARCH 16, 2020
HOME OFFICE: DAY 1
I’ve traveled a lot recently. I’ve flown on a lot of planes. I’ve been in close contact with a lot of people.
The end of February landed me on a last-minute Seattle-to-Boston flight. 3,000 miles in just over five hours.
It was a tough ticket to book, as I’d just returned from a work-related trip to Denver about two weeks earlier. I wasn’t sure if I should have been boarding another plane. I hated being away from my wife and three small kids again so soon, but I had no choice. My dad had just entered hospice care back in Boston, and I hadn’t seen him since my wedding in Cape Cod the previous July. Now it was late February, and I wanted to spend as much time with him as I possibly could.
Parked in an offsite lot, I boarded their public shuttle to the terminal, wondering every bump of the way: Why don’t I take this shuttle this every time I fly out of SeaTac? It was so stress-free.
Walking through the airport, my mind struggled to make sense of the situation that awaited me back in Massachusetts. Soon, however, and against all odds, I had something to distract me. As I rolled my bag toward the TSA line, I did so alongside three kids, about the age of my own, who traveled hand-in-hand with their parents — only their eyes visible above crisp white masks.
Back in Boston, I watched the news with my dad every day at noon.
Coronavirus: Death Toll Rises to 2,932
CDC: 69 Confirmed and Presumptive Positive Cases in U.S.
Washington Gov. Jay Inslee Issues State of Emergency
A few days later I boarded an eerily empty flight back to Seattle, touching down in the place I’d just looked at from a far away TV screen.
After a few days back in Yakima, prepping press releases and discussing cancellations, I downloaded another boarding pass — this time for a long-awaited vacation with my wife.
On that Seattle-to-San Diego flight, we found ourselves alone in our airplane row, wondering when we’d ever have a chance to fly like that again. No need to climb over people to get to our seats. No 20-month-old son on our laps, wrestling headphone cords from outlets and slapping the in-seat tray table like a speed bag.
Just us.
A week ago from this writing we found ourselves standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a crowd of strangers far from home. My favorite band performed on the stage before us.
We awoke the next morning in a hotel room echoing with a rainstorm — a rarity for La Jolla, California, which served as a perfect setting for our getaway. We watched the storm from our room’s balcony, gazing out at seals swirling through the breaking Pacific surf. The only sound that competed with the crashing waves were birds.
It all seemed surreal.
Imagining the trip, I expected to be surrounded by like-minded vacationers. Instead, we sat alone by the hotel pool for hours, as if the pink hotel looking down on us was our house and we were in our own backyard. We walked down quiet streets under grey morning skies, laughing our way to the bottom of to-go coffees that carried us into long breakfasts in otherwise lifeless cafes. As I watched the waves roll in, I embraced the unusual solitude we’d achieved.
The locals we spoke with speculated that the rainy weather forecast must have scared off the typical crowds. They laughed when they asked where we were from, some saying things like, “I guess a little rain isn’t enough to scare off someone from Seattle.” Looking back, that may have been nervous laughter.
We didn’t mind the rain. In fact, we loved it. It succeeded in dulling the everyday stresses and hustle and bustle of life in a way that nothing else seemed to be able to.
Today, those things have once again shifted in an unimaginable way.
Today, I wonder when I’ll travel like that again; when I’ll go to a concert, or stay in a hotel. I wonder when I’ll eat breakfast at a cafe again.
I wonder if I’ll be able to go back to Boston to see my dad again.
I wonder when the hustle and bustle will come back.
Paul Bubluski
Assistant Director of Content
Pacific Northwest University of Health Sciences