No one has had it as bad as we do!

It would have been hard to comprehend just a few years ago what we are going through now, in April 2020, with the Corona Virus (CoVID-19) and the sequestering of which we have been charged to do. And if we do wander out among the people of the world, we must keep 6 feet between two people. This is less than desirable for most folks and a lot of people are complaining via social media, believing that this hardship of the quarantine is unfair, unlawful (contrary to the Constitution), and anti-family (or anti-church, anti-groups - like genealogy society meetings, etc.). The government is making us prisoners in our own homes. This is unprecedented! Well, that is probably accurate, considering those alive today (with the exception of those who have been or are in prison). But it is not at all unprecedented.

Yes, we can look back to earlier epidemics and pandemics, experienced by ancestors, who ended up quarantined until any danger of contamination of others had passed. How else would the legal system of a village, county, or larger region handle the vulnerability of anyone who had not developed immunity to whatever the disease was? Inoculations were not recognized until the mid- to late-18th Century but were not accepted  by the general public (https://www.historyofvaccines.org/timeline#EVT_24); but the virus flooding our hospitals today is not yet treatable with a prophylactic vaccine.

In more recent years, just a century ago, the influenza pandemic (world-wide as opposed to country- or state-wide epidemic) resulted in large numbers of patients (not six feet apart) crammed into hospital tents and nursed by masked caregivers - sound familiar? Check out the photos of the quarantine efforts: https://loc.gov/search/?in=&q=1918+influenza+pandemic&new=true&st=

Ward #4, Annex #7, American Hospital, Blois, France

Soldiers in hospital beds with nurses and other patients nearby, 21 April 1919

Library of Congress

But let's go back further, and here I am influenced by the number of cruise ships that have been "docked" away from harbors because of the threat of CoVID-19 being on board. The virus can incubate for 14 days, meaning that a person could be positive for the disease, but not know it, yet infecting those with whom he/she comes in contact any time in that period (there's no guarantee of infection or immunity). Like Typhoid Mary (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Mallon), these infected folks are an issue of concern, hence the quarantine (even if for 14 instead of the 40 days ships of years gone by).

I also liken this current situation to those of years gone by . . . a lot of years. Some of my ancestors came to America in 1630, 1849, 1855, 1864, and 1871. I do not know exactly how it was for every immigrant who boarded a ship, but I do expect that most, if not all, of my family came via steerage (the lowest classification for passengers). So, for all intents and purposes, they experienced "forced" sequestering. Let's look at the differences:

Today - We are encouraged to stay at home unless our work is considered "necessary" for the community to keep afloat.
Then - Ancestor passengers did not have choices of where to go. In some cases, Steerage passengers were permitted to go up on deck, but that was no guarantee. So staying "at home" in their massive, shared compartment was the only choice (other than jumping overboard).

Detroit Publishing Co., publisher; © 1902

Library of Congress

Today - We are permitted to go shopping, but do not hoard and keep time in the store limited or, even better, order items for delivery (though some delivery dates of groceries is many days from the ordering date).
Then - Some shipping companies provided provisions for the trip, but there was no air drop of emergency supplies or food, should they run short (which many did). Those who brought their own provisions (in part or total) hoarded and often kept secret info about the food items they did have.

Today - Paper products (toilet paper in particular), soaps, sanitation items, etc. are hard to acquire and may not be available for a number of days or weeks, or longer. We still have water when we turn on the tap and electricity as needed (even if delinquent with a bill payment).
Then - What's toilet paper? (The Sears catalog was not hung in the outhouse as bathroom reading material.) On the ship, soap was encouraged to be used, but not always available. Staying clean and keeping clothing clean was a constant challenge. I'll leave you to imagine the smell and unsanitary conditions. There was no such thing as "ordering" supplies! And clean water was at a premium (some washed with whiskey because of the lack of clean water); what's electricity?

Today - Our entertainment and way to pass time is limited to whatever books we happen to have at home or on our e-readers, games on iPads, videos, and social media and similar chat sessions. School takes place online.
Then - What's an iPad or e-reader or video? Books are too bulky to include in one's luggage for the trip, except, perhaps, for the Bible. Chatting was done in person and parents taught their children, as appropriate (if a parent doesn't read, it's hard to teach the skill to anyone, let alone a child). The only "line" used is the shipping line.

Today - Social Distance is the new term for staying at least six feet apart. This is designed to minimize cross-contamination if anyone is contagious (knowingly or not)
Then - Especially in steerage: there was no way to create a six foot space between people. Cross-contamination was inevitable, except in cases where a person was immune; however, because such an individual, an asymptomatic condition may mean he/she can pass on the disease to others.

Unprecedented? No, but certainly hard to imagine . . . until, perhaps, now. And as we look out our windows, no matter what we see, it has to be better than what those in steerage saw, due to their lack of any view! So as we continue to "endure" our isolation, let's keep in mind and memory the ancestors who sacrificed everything to sail to the "new" country and realize that we really have it pretty good. Thanks to the multi-great-grandparents for allowing us life today, wherever we need to spend it.

THE BLOG (NOT BLOB) RETURNS - A SEQUEL

It has been a very, very long time since I wrote in the blog for Circlemending (over 2 years, I'm embarrassed to admit). I have submitted posts for a number of other blogs, but at the expense of spending time on my own. This is a good time to change that . . . considering this "the sequel" to my "Circlemending Blog" (not to be confused with that "B" horror movie with Steve McQueen, "The Blob" - always a favorite for me).

As many reading this may know, my husband is very ill (pancreatic cancer, complicated by congestive heart failure, pulmonary issues, diabetes, and gastrointestinal complications) so much of my time has been dealing with him and the various elements that are included in being a primary caregiver. I have ended up with some physical issues as well as psychological ones, but nothing life threatening, as long as a manage things appropriately. Which I try to do.

So how has life changed now that we are both feeling age in every joint and muscle (what is left of those)? In many ways, not at all. We still argue about the same things (but tire faster so most arguments are rather short . . . plus, we forget what we’re arguing about within a few minutes, anyway); still plan to do the things we have done in the past (but are always prepared to change plans and directions – a trip to a museum may find us going a different direction, towards the Veterans Administration Hospital in Loma Linda); we continue to pray thanks for our blessings, but recognize that not all blessings are filled with happiness and joy, but are opportunities to get to know “new” friends who show up at the door to assist us with one task or another. And we still have music in a very prominent position in our lifestyle.

We are being very careful not to put ourselves in a vulnerable position, as far as getting exposed to colds or diseases; my immune system is compromised by my newly acquired asthma and my uncanny ability to “catch” any germ within a mile or so, and Butch is on chemo so that comes with a danger to the immune system, and the doctor has been very clear that he is to minimize or eliminate exposure to illnesses by staying away from large groups of people in locations where ventilation is poor (that would include airplanes, church, movie theaters, parties held inside, etc.). So we don’t get out as much as we did but are looking forward to the annual Folk and Heritage Festival in Glendale, Arizona on Feb 29 and Mar 1. We will be doing some performing and a couple of workshops, but Butch will be getting around on his electric scooter instead of hiking all over the festival grounds. Everything will be outside so we are hoping for good weather and renewing many friendships – albeit at a distance, if necessary.

 

I’m excited to be seeing my friend and part-time music partner, Stefanie Eskander (she and I will be performing as the String Sisters and are looking at doing a program of camp songs). Our practice time will be minimal, but we have a second (third, fourth, fifth?) sense of knowing what the other person will be doing and we stop and start as though we’ve done the given song together for years. Also hoping to see other friends and, hopefully, family – daughter, son-in-law, a grandchild or 2 or 3 – making it a special event in more than one way.

So I decided that, since my time is often spent waiting (for appointments or Butch's chemo infusions, mostly), this is a perfect time to reinstate the blog and get into some music topics that I have been gathering over my absence from this space. For those interested in how Butch is doing, I have a running "play by play" description at Caring Bridge: <https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/lynnbutchhibben>

Thanks to the Seegers for reminding us that music is a natural way to approach life

My dear brother clipped and sent me an article from the Chicago Sun Times from 17 March 2014 (sometimes it takes my bro a bit of time to send me the things he believes I’ll be interested in . . . but I’m equally as guilty, having just sent him a gift I purchased for him back in about that same year and month). The article on pages 28 and 29 is titled “Love between a Brother and Sister.” Maybe he saw it and thought of us, clipping it to remind me of the relationship we’ve shared for over 66 years. He’s a good guy to think of me in that way (if that’s not what caught his eye, I’ll just pretend it is). Maybe the most impressive part of this “gift” is that my brother obviously read the article before sending it to me, which I know because he marked a section he thought was particularly interesting and would be of similar interest to me. He was right.

The article is about Peggy Seeger, who was to be a performer at the Old Town School of Folk Music in Chicago about the time the article was published. The author, Mark Guarino, interviewed her about her familial connection to Pete Seeger and the music world, in general. Peggy lives in New Zealand now, but has long been part of the “folk scene” in America. I have seen Peggy in concert a few times over the years from the mid-1960s on and have always enjoyed her performances. Peggy and Pete were half-siblings, Pete being the elder (he passed away at age 94 in 2014). I cannot count the number of times I have enjoyed Pete in concert, even, once, having the opportunity to him with his sister in a joint performance. So many years and so many songs ago.

I’ve been making music with friends and family just about since I could talk. My father got me singing when I was three or four years old and I memorized the songs that I was too young to read. He’d play piano while I’d sing. When I visited my paternal grandparents, my grandmother got me singing the “Jesus songs” and my grandfather would teach me songs from his southern roots (decidedly not about Jesus and completely politically incorrect today). Then as I got older I started playing instruments (Dad tried to teach me the piano, but it was an exercise in futility – no fault of his; we didn’t know then about dyslexia and it’s negative effect on my ability to read notes). I first played my grandfather’s harpeleik – a Swedish zither, which he eventually gave to me, and then I graduated to ukulele and harmonica and, finally, guitar. But I also picked up the banjo about the same time, learning with some “instruction” from a public television program of Pete’s. In fact, it was Pete’s book on learning to read music that has aided me in some of my understanding of theory (I also took a couple of college courses in the subject, many years later). So I guess my brother’s kindness in sending me that article has brought me back to my childhood – at least in memory.

And what I just wrote connects to one of Peggy’s responses to the interviewer’s questions. Quoting her from that article about music in general and folk music in particular, she says: “We’re all unique and we have our own potential. And there’s music in essentially every child that’s born. But it’s snuffed out by becoming a consumer instead of a producer. Because our educational system teaches us to be a consumer; it does not teach us, on the whole, to produce . . . What Pete said was, ‘You can do this, you can make up music, you can sing music.’ How simple it is to make a song yourself. And the act of creation is intensely important to human beings. It really is. Intensely. You feel better, you walk more tall, you get along better with other people, you feel that life is your own unique thing as well as a community thing. Pete brought out this individualism, he also brought out the community singing together. So it’s global and local, it’s large and small, it’s personal and general.”

 Peggy Seeger, 2011, Salford, England. Photo from Wikipedia.

(If you aren't familiar with Peggy and her music, here is a recording of her, singing the song her husband, Ewan MacColl, who died in 1989, wrote for here: "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face." To read about Peggy's amazing life, check out her memoir book: First Time Ever, available in Kindle format from Amazon.)

I’ve been writing songs since high school (my first efforts were in Math class, since I did each lesson the night before with my father as the teacher – nothing our instructor said was new to me, so I wrote songs). I’ve been adding verses to songs already written by others to make them more personal or connect them to my topic, in the case of using music in my genealogy presentations. Back in the 1960s, Pete encouraged his readers (of “Johnny Appleseed, Jr.,” his column in Sing Out! magazine) to add verses to Woody Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land.” I tried my hand at that and sent the result to Pete (see blog post from 11 August 2011) and he kept it and printed it in a book dealing with the history of folk music (giving me appropriate credit, of course).

Pete Seeger, 1955. Photo from Wikipedia

When we were kids, my brother (who is six years my senior) would make up songs to tunes we already knew, then teach them to me. We sang about our stuffed animals and their adventures. We sang commercial jingles together. And, I’m pleased to say, my father recorded us, so those early attempts at being budding composers and performers would not be lost. Of course, neither of us will play those recordings for anyone, but we had fun and the music filled the gap of the half dozen years that separated us in most everything else (we did not even attend the same school except for two years of our lives, and that was only because I went to pre-kindergarten and kindergarten at his elementary school . . . but we were on different floors and had different start and dismissal times, so we really didn’t even notice each other unless Mom drove us both to school, which she rarely did). Even “all-school” activities and assemblies omitted the little kindergarteners, which I’m sure was met with approval by all those bigger kids from upstairs.

Speaking of school, my favorite time in school was music. The music teacher would come in, often with some marvelous item we could use to make music. Or our art teacher would instruct us in making such an item – I remember most vividly the “sand blocks,” but I know there was an oatmeal container that miraculously became a drum. Sometimes the music teacher let us choose the songs. Sometimes we’d learn something new and I’d share those with my Dad (who, of course, already knew the songs) and we’d “do” them together.

My point here is that music is, as Peggy said, personal, and it becomes a panacea for some of the stressful events that we must endure in various arenas in our lives. When I sing a song, I find myself forgetting the nitty gritty for a moment (I know it will still be there when my music time comes to an end, but an escape, even for just a few minutes, can make the inevitable “crap” much less “crappy”). It’s just my opinion, but it’s been working for over 60 years of my life.

Sing on and stay in tune! 

Looking for more information on the Seegers? Check the Library of Congress.