Every night at precisely 7:00 pm, when the clapping, shouting, hooting, banging, whistling, stomping and cheering for healthcare workers (and health!) begins, our COVID-19 lockdown turns into an affirmation of noise and life.
It fills the early evening air. Passing cars blow their horns. The familiar firehouse across the street with its red door, seasonal decorations and pictures of 9/11 heroes refuses to be left out; suddenly we hear one of those large, very loud, and assertive (as in get outta my way), yet strangely comforting, super important, fire engine blasts that you just can’t ignore.
Engine 52 traces its history to 1884, when most fire stations were in Manhattan and places further afield and still woodsy were considered wild and untrammeled. The bellowing toot that insists on being heard each evening blares yeah, we're with you, we're in this together New York & we're gonna beat it!!!
Sympathetic magic? Maybe. But who's to say this won't keep our spirits moving while we wait for a more concrete solution? Call it an end-to-pandemic dance. . . .
Lynne,
ReplyDeleteThanx for your warm-hearted post about the dire situation we’re all caught in.
May we get through it and on to happier days!
xox Dana