On March 10, 2020, I was just outside Philadelphia delivering a presentation for Canon on how to sell inkjet printing along with my co-author, Kelly Mallozzi. Outside, the storm clouds of COVID were approaching. In fact, we weren’t sure this event was going to happen right up until the day before I picked Kelly up in Connecticut and we drove to the venue.
The next morning I woke to find an urgent email waiting for me. My daughter, Emma, studied infectious diseases as an undergrad and had sent to both me and my ex-wife an alarming message aimed at alerting us to the seriousness of the situation. Up to that point, the pandemic was happening elsewhere and seemed like someone else’s problems. Looking back, I think to myself, “How typically American of me.”
“Mom and Dad, you sent me to college and now I am smarter than you.” That certainly got my attention! She continued, “I need you to take this pandemic seriously. The world is about to shut down and you need to prepare.” Emma went on to predict how things would play out from that point forward. She would end up being spot on correct regarding everything.
We gave the presentation, said goodbye to our friends at Canon, and began the six-hour drive east. Starting the moment we got in the car, Kelly and I processed Emma’s email with each other, both in shock and disbelief. How could this be? Crazy. Surreal. Unprecedented. And finally, “We’d better get prepared.”
Having dropped Kelly off, I still had three hours to sit with my thoughts and run through that denial-to-acceptance process again and again.
Of the more startling predictions Emma made, “Stock up on food immediately” was one that shook me to the core. As the child of depression-era parents, I can recall eye rolling through their stories of having nothing to eat. Suddenly, everything my parents went through took on new meaning for me and I silently apologized to them.
It was late at night when I walked into the 24 hour Wal-Mart near my home. I grabbed a cart and went looking for the non-perishables like rice and pasta and tomato sauce, all the while thinking to myself, “This isn’t happening. I’m dreaming.”
As I stood in line waiting to check out, I began noticing a steady stream of young people walking in the store in twos and threes and even groups of five. It seemed they were far more accepting of pandemic predictions than my age group.
It still seems surreal. It still feels crazy to think about the entire world shutting down. And now it’s me who has the story to tell.
My kids lived through it as adults, so I guess I will have to bore my grandchildren with tales of shortages and limitations and all those damn masks.
Cue the eye rolling.
