While Loved Ones Get Sick and Die, The Squeaky Wheels Get the Oil

 For the first time in the 22 years that I have lived in Southern Boone County, I am ashamed of and embarrassed by the actions of our local school board. Last week, in the face of a huge increase in students and teachers testing positive for Covid-19 and/or being placed in quarantine, the Southern Boone School Board inexplicably voted to ban mask mandates in all of the district’s buildings.

The board’s policy requiring mask-wearing for two weeks, when case numbers in any given building reach a threshold of at least 15% of students and staff infected and/or quarantined, had already been implemented in two buildings after just 13 school days, yet board members decided against implementing a stronger masking policy and instead opted to discard mask mandates entirely. You are reading that correctly. Rather than taking additional measures to keep our children and their educators safe, our school board instead removed existing safety protocols.

Watching the special board meeting online, I was so stunned by this turn of events that I replayed the video numerous times to be sure of what I had just witnessed. Days later, I still cannot believe that a room full of people elected by their fellow citizens and entrusted with the responsibility of keeping our community’s students and teachers safe deliberately voted to make the people in their care less safe.

Though three board members voted against the motion, I am nevertheless disappointed with all seven representatives. When President Steve Condron asked for further discussion after Tiffany Clevenger’s motion to ban mask mandates was seconded by Amy Begemann, no one spoke up. Not one person thought to say aloud, “Hey, wait a minute. It sounded like, with the way cases keep going higher and higher, that we were exploring the possibility of making a universal mask mandate in all district buildings, at least until the numbers start to drop. Instead, we’re talking about doing the opposite?! I thought we were supposed to make our schools safer for our students and their teachers, not more dangerous.”

Unfortunately, none of the seven board members paused for even a moment to debate the ramifications of discarding themask mandate policy. There was no further discussion.

 

I believe further discussion is in order. Masks have been scientifically proven to help block respiratory droplets and aerosols containing viruses from spreading. While cloth masks do not give complete protection, they are much more effective than wearing no mask at all—especially when everyone wears them.

What will happen as Covid continues to spread unabated due to not requiring kids in school to wear masks? How many family members will contract the more contagious and far deadlier Delta variant from their unprotected, school-aged children? How many people in our community will die as a result of the board’s reckless change in policy?

The biggest question on my mind and on the minds of many people in Southern Boone County is “Why?” Why did the board create a safe re-entry plan with a temporary mask mandate clause before the school year began and less than three weeks into the fall semester remove it? With active, symptomatic cases far outpacing last year’s numbers, why would the board abandon a well-reasoned safety measure as soon as it went into effect?

Was it because of the 8 or 10 anti-mask protesters who caused a disruption in front of the elementary school on the first day the temporary mask mandate was to go into effect? Was it because some of those same protesters attended the special board meeting? Is this a case of the squeaky wheels getting the oil? If so, I strongly urge every single parent, student, and community member who is as outraged as I am by this shocking decision to please contact the members of the board of education to express your displeasure. Their names and contact information are posted on the district’s website.

Perhaps even further discussion is in order. Such as, do we need new representation on our school board? I have met most of the members of our board of education. I’m Facebook friends with many of them. I taught several of their children during my years as a substitute and full-time educator. These are good people. They care about our community. I believe they have good intentions. But I also believe that they made a terrible mistake by voting to “not have a mask mandate at any point.”

If you, like I do, want the board to reverse this decision, then it’s our turn to do some squeaking. And if all of our squeaking doesn’t convince the board of education to do everything in their power to protect our children and their teachers, then perhaps we’ll need to do some squeaking at the polls during the next board member election.

I’ll end now with this final thought. Exactly eight hours ago, my wife and I attended the funeral of Bethany’s uncle Mike. Mike was a good man, a dedicated servant to his community, and a loving husband, father, grandfather, and uncle. He made the world a much better place. Tragically, Mike spent the last month of his life in the hospital, dying of Covid-19. I assure you that this disease is real, as is the threat to the safety of the unmasked children and staff members packed into our schools—and their family members at home, many of whom are too young to be vaccinated.

 

I sincerely hope that the school board will reverse its decision as soon as possible. Doing the right thing is often difficult, but those good people whom we elected to serve our community are capable of doing great things. Now is their chance to prove it.

 

The Sad Irony of the “Facts Not Fear” Protest

 When I saw Southern Boone County School District Superintendent Chris Felmlee getting ready to donate blood at the high school blood drive last Wednesday afternoon, I walked over and struck up a conversation with my friend and former employer. I told Mr. Felmlee that because my father was a school administrator for many years, I have a pretty good idea of how difficult his job can be. Especially in the age of Covid-19. 

“I want to thank you for always acting in the best interests of our children and their teachers,” I said. “I know that no matter what you decide to do as far as mask mandates and such, about half the population will be mad at you.”

Then I said, “I’m proud of you.”

Mr. Felmlee was moved, and he expressed his appreciation for my support. Although he didn’t say so, I could tell it meant a lot to hear words of encouragement when he is accustomed to hearing so many words of criticism. His is one job I would never, ever want.

The next day, Mr. Felmlee sent parents an email informing them that because the school board’s agreed upon threshold of active Covid cases and/or students in quarantine was reached at the elementary school, students and staff would be required to wear masks in the school building for the next two weeks. Not a big deal. I wore a mask every day that I subbed last school year, as did every teacher and student in the district. The kids didn’t complain. They just did what they were told. They knew it was the right thing to do, and I was very impressed by the way they handled it.

If only all of the grown-ups in Ashland could handle themselves with such maturity. Last Friday morning, on the first day of the temporary mask mandate, a group of picket-wielding protesters showed up at the elementary school during student drop-off and voiced their displeasure with the district-approved masking decision. This group of individuals chose to protest in plain view of young children who were being dropped off by their parents, which caused some kids to become worried about the strangers gathered in front of the school.

One of the signs held by a protester read, “Facts not Fear.” Well, the unfortunate fact is that by deciding to hold their protest in front of innocent schoolchildren instead of the administrators at the district office building, many children were frightened. Several parents I know reported that their kids were scared that the strangers might break into the school and do bad things to the kids. And who can blame the youngsters for thinking the worst? Afterall, we force them to endure intruder drills and active shooter training twice a year. We force them to think about life and death when uninvited strangers show up at school.

 

To this group of “peaceful protesters” I say this: Shame on you. How dare you trespass upon school property and terrify little kids? You have every right to disagree with the district’s board and administrators, but you have absolutely no right to upset small children and disrupt their school day while pushing your political agenda.

 

Shame on every single one of you.

You owe those kids, their parents, and the teachers who had to take time away from their lessons in order to explain the distressing disruption to their students an apology. I challenge you to write your apology in the form of a letter to the editor of this newspaper. I further challenge you to not use your letter as a means to push your agenda. You need to simply and sincerely apologize for your actions, explain why they were wrong, and promise to do better next time.

Save your protests for the next school board meeting. If you still don’t get the results you desire, you have options. Home schooling, virtual learning, and private schools are all choices that are available to you. Or you could just send your kids to school with a mask and tell them how proud you are of them for doing what they can to keep everybody healthy.

Patriotism: Baseball, Hotdogs, Apple Pie, and Chevrolet

Twenty years ago, Americans made a solemn vow to never forget the people who died during the terrorist attacks that occurred on the morning of September 11, 2001. A year later, a congressional resolution was introduced that designated September 11 as a National Day of Mourning. It was called Patriot Day.

I absolutely support the idea of keeping alive the memory of the nearly 3,000 innocent civilians and first responders who died that fateful day. The heroes who sacrificed their lives in service of their fellow Americans on 9/11 deserve more than a holiday, they should be immortalized in poems, songs, statues, and history books. 

Patriot Day was conceived as a day to mourn the loss of those heroes and victims. It was never meant to become an annual occasion to retraumatize Americans by forcing us to rewatch the graphic and horrifying deaths of thousands of our fellow human beings.

 

I vividly recall seeing the second plane smash into the World Trade Center live as it happened while watching television coverage of the first crash. My co-workers thought we were watching a replay of the first plane, but I knew immediately that we had just witnessed the deaths of hundreds of people on live TV. I cannot put into words the horror and fear that I felt at that moment. And I couldn’t forget it if I tried.

Every year I relive that trauma all over again when news outlets and TV stations show the all-too-familiar images of the planes smashing into the towers, billowing black smoke blowing over Manhattan, and the massive clouds of dust and ash created by the collapsing buildings. Audio of terrified passengers in the doomed jetliners is replayed, photos of desperate men and women leaping to their deaths from the burning towers are displayed, and video of smoldering wreckage in Pennsylvania and at the Pentagon is shown again and again and again.

I am confident that I am not the only one who is retraumatized by this process every year. I am also convinced that the people who died that day would not want us to be subjected to rewatching their horrific murders over and over again. 

Funerals are often paired with celebrations of life, and I think a day of mourning should also be a day of celebration. We should be celebrating the lives of the people we lost that day instead of torturing ourselves by dwelling on their deaths. 

Maybe it’s time to rethink what we mean by “Patriot Day”. To do that, we need to reflect on what it is to be a patriot.

  

When I was a kid growing up in the 1970s, there was an ad campaign for Chevrolet that featured a catchy jingle that repeated the phrase, “Baseball, hotdogs, apple pie, and Chevrolet”. The song became one of the most memorable and effective jingles in the history of advertising, and nearly fifty years later, a love for baseball, hotdogs, apple pie, and Chevrolet is synonymous with a love for America. If a patriot is someone who loves his or her country, then someone who loves baseball, hotdogs, apple pie, and Chevrolet must be a true American patriot indeed.

Last weekend, instead of rewatching and reliving the trauma of 9/11, I observed a few moments of silence to remember those innocent souls who were lost twenty years ago. Then I carried on with my life in what I think was the most patriotic way possible.

First, I went to the store and bought an apple pie and a container of vanilla ice cream. For three straight days, I ate pie a la mode for lunch. I also ate a hot dog, the right way—the American way, with yellow mustard and absolutely no ketchup. I watched a lot of baseball (and football and boxing, too). And I entered my 2010 Chevrolet Camaro SS in the Ashland Fall Festival car show where I won a first-place trophy for “Best 1970 or Newer Muscle Car”. It was a wonderful, patriotic weekend.

The people who died on 9/11 were regular folks like you and me. They had families, jobs, fears, and ambitions. They were also patriots. They loved baseball, hotdogs, apple pie, Chevrolet, and the good old U.S. of A. There’s no doubt in my mind that they would have approved of the way I observed Patriot Day this year.

I hope that next year, and every year after, my fellow Americans will join me in honoring the people we lost on 9/11 by celebrating their lives—and living ours to the absolute fullest. What could be more patriotic than that?

A Labor Day Weekend Miracle

It shouldn’t surprise regular readers of my weekly missives that this week’s column is about yet another Naughton-Hecker family camping adventure. Such outings are a staple of our clan’s highly successful (and highly entertaining) “character building program”. If our family is lacking in any quality, it is not character (or characters, to be more precise).

It should also not be surprising to read that our most recent camping trip involved a damaged trailer tire, an epic battle with a nest of angry wasps, and a fresh water tank filled with water that could not in any way be described as fresh.

And it probably wouldn’t surprise you to learn that all of those things occurred before we even pulled out of our own driveway.

This year’s Naughton-Hecker Labor Day Weekend Campout took place at Ozark Farms Family Campground nestled cozily between State Highway 72 and a lovely mobile home park in Rolla, Missouri. With the exception of the thunderous exhaust brakes of the region’s many logging trucks, most of the highway’s traffic noise was drowned out by the sound of our pull-behind camper’s air conditioner unit. And the trailer park doubled as the home of a semi-permanent yard sale, which is nice if you find yourself needing slightly-stained baby clothes or a set of table lamps with mismatched shades.

Our camper was filled with bodies for the holiday weekend. Seven humans (including a baby) and two canines. Bethany’s sister’s clan, the Heckers, added another seven humans and one dog to our body count, although their crew was housed in two camping trailers. We’ve heard rumors that some people go camping to escape the chaos of civilization and to find some peace and quiet. We are not those people.

What we do can barely be called “camping”. We do not sleep on the ground or in tents, nor do we dig holes to poop in. Instead, our lodgings are furnished with comfortable beds, full kitchens, restrooms, water heaters, air conditioners, and hi-definition televisions. “Glamping” is a term that combines glamour and camping. “Glamping” could be used to describe our style of camping, but anyone who knows anything about our myriad mishaps and RV misadventures knows that there is nothing glamourous about a Naughton-Hecker campout.

Hail-ravaged RVs, damaged radiators, dead batteries, scalded hands, leaking toilets, twisted awnings, broken air-conditioners, in-operational generators, non-functioning furnaces, destroyed rear-end gears, and noxious sewer gases are but a few of the not-so-glamorous incidents that have plagued our camping trips over the years.

As I mentioned, last weekend’s trip saw its share of adversity, too. As I was getting our camper ready to go, (we haven’t used it since March), a few issues came up. First, I forgot that I had filled our fresh water tank when we last used our camper six months ago. Despite draining the stagnant water, filling the tank with clean water and a little bleach to sanitize everything, and draining it again, I forgot to drain the water heater tank. For the rest of the weekend, the hot water in our camper smelled like a combination of the non-toxic RV antifreeze I also failed to drain completely and rotten eggs. I told the kids, “If you close your eyes and use your imagination, you can almost convince yourself that you’re bathing in a luxurious hot-sulfur spring in some exotic location.” They didn’t buy it.

While I was airing up the trailer’s tires, I noticed a chunk of rubber peeling away from the sidewall of one of the passenger-side tires. Although I was glad to have discovered the issue before having a blowout on the highway, I was nevertheless dismayed that I had to change a tire when I needed to be packing for the trip. My mood was darkening.

Dismay is not the word I would use to describe how my war with the wasps made me feel. Terror. Rage. Abject, white-hot hate. Those words would be more accurate. The wasps timed their attack for precisely the moment we were trying to leave. I was trying to load our dogs into the bed of the truck (equipped with a camper shell with screened windows for fresh air) when a squadron of the winged hell-spawn began their attack. From their nest that was cleverly hidden under the trailer’s tongue which was presently hitched to the truck’s rear bumper, wasp after wasp began hurling themselves toward me and my beautiful face. Luckily, Bethany remembered that she had picked up a bottle of wasp spray at the grocery store a few days earlier. Ten minutes and at least a dozen dead or dying wasps later, I emerged victorious from the battle. It was a Labor Day Weekend miracle that I somehow managed to avoid getting stung a single time.

As always, the positives of getting everyone together for a fun-filled family campout far-outweighed the negatives. Breakfast cooked over an open fire by my brother-in-law Doug, entertainment provided by Bethany and her identical twin goofball Charla, and the sound of four generations of laughter (from Great Grandma Glee all the way down to Baby Freya).

It was a miraculous Labor Day Weekend indeed.  

Hope and Horror in Afghanistan

 

After the bus carrying Pakistani girls, including a 15-year-old named Malala Yousafzai, was stopped in the street by armed members of the Taliban, one of the extremists demanded, “Who is Malala?” When her terrified classmates innocently looked in her direction, Malala—a bright and outspoken advocate for women’s and girls’ rights—was shot point-blank in the head and left to die.

By that horrific day in October, 2012, the United States had been at war with the Taliban and al-Qaeda terror groups in Afghanistan and the Swat region of Pakistan for exactly 11 years. Although a democratic form of government had been installed to replace the Taliban’s oppressive regime and Osama Bin Laden, the architect of the September 11 terrorist attacks, had been killed by U.S. Navy Seals, there was no end in sight to what would become America’s longest war.

Why did the United States continue to fight and risk American troops’ lives for another 9 years after the two main objectives of the War on Terror were accomplished?

Democracy had taken a tenuous hold in Afghanistan during President George W. Bush’s time in office, and Bin Laden was killed during President Obama’s first term. America should have withdrawn then, leaving the world better off than it had been in September, 2001. Nevertheless, the U.S. remained in the region.

President Trump had many faults, but he was right about one thing; the United States has no business fighting endless wars in foreign lands. In February, 2020, he negotiated a deal with the Taliban where the U.S. would leave Afghanistan by May of 2021, contingent upon the “Taliban’s action against al-Qaeda and other terrorists that could threaten us.” Under this agreement, the Afghan government would be forced to release 5,000 Taliban prisoners, which was of course a recipe for disaster. And so much for America’s policy of never negotiating with terrorists.

In the months leading up to the announced American withdrawal, multiple attacks on civilian and government targets were perpetrated by the Taliban, breaking the terms of the agreement. Yet President Biden decided to go ahead with plans to vacate the country, albeit at a postponed date of August, 2021.

President Biden has denied that he was informed by intelligence services that the weak Afghan government was likely to fall quickly to Taliban insurgents after America’s departure from the country. He said, “There’s going to be no circumstances where you see people being lifted off the roof of an embassy of the United States from Afghanistan.” He was, like so many world leaders who came before him, dead wrong about Afghanistan.

The Soviet Union fought an open-ended war against Muslim guerrillas in Afghanistan for 10 years, only to withdraw from a quagmire that cost around 15,000 Soviet troops’ lives. In the last 20 years, over 2,300 American troops and 1,700 U.S. civilian contractors have been killed in Afghanistan, and after all the bloodshed, (including the tragic deaths of 13 servicemembers last week), the United States is leaving the country as it found it in 2001—in the hands of the Taliban.

The last four American presidents each share some of the blame for the mess that is Afghanistan. Bush diverted our focus away from Afghanistan when he invaded Iraq. Obama decided to keep boots on the ground even after Bin Laden’s death. Trump released thousands of imprisoned terrorists and circled a date on the calendar for America’s withdrawal, which gave our enemies months to prepare to retake the country. And Biden lacked the political courage to ignore the deadline until every last American and Afghan vulnerable to Taliban reprisals was safely evacuated from the country. 

The 300,000 rifle-dropping Afghan government soldiers who surrendered to the Taliban insurgents without a fight and the Afghan president who fled the country rather than stand with his people bear some responsibility, too. 

The bulk of the blame for the state of affairs in Afghanistan is the Taliban themselves. These violent religious fanatics, who would have me killed for being an atheist and for being a freethinking member of the press, routinely murder anyone who disagrees with their ideologies. Just ask Malala. Miraculously, Malala survived the attempt on her life, and she has bravely continued to speak out on behalf of access to education for girls. 

Though she is from Pakistan, Malala’s struggles for equality are also the struggles of girls and women in Afghanistan. The last time the Taliban was in power, females were not allowed out of their homes without a male relative to escort them. When outside, every inch of their bodies and faces had to be covered in fabric. They were not allowed to have jobs. They were not allowed to attend school. They were forced to marry and bear children against their will. They were, in every sense of the word, slaves to their male oppressors. 

I agree that America needs to end its forever war in Afghanistan. I just wish that we would have done so when the Taliban was at its weakest 17 or 18 years ago, instead of now when it is stronger than ever. My heart breaks for the innocent people of Afghanistan—especially women and girls.

I am also heartbroken for the nearly half-million American servicemen and women who fought valiantly to give the citizens of Afghanistan an opportunity for a better life over the last 20 years. To those fine people I say, your efforts were not in vain. You made a positive difference in the lives of nearly everyone in that war-torn nation. The world is a better place because of your sacrifices. Thank you for all that you have done for your fellow man.

Now we watch with hope and in horror as the fate of Afghanistan is in its own hands once again. Perhaps America’s influence in the region will prevent a backslide into the dark ages that once defined the Taliban’s rule. What choice do we have but to remain cautiously optimistic for the future of Afghanistan and the world in general? 

Optimism: To live any other way is to not live at all.