Journaling 101
Journaling is seen by some as an intimate recording of personal thoughts and feelings, others consider it a cathardic exercise that relieves tension, and others think of it as an historical documentation of a specific point in time. It truly can be all of these things. The following entries were submitted for our Jounaling posts. The voices are distinctly different, just as the individuals behind them are. Thank you for sharing these thoughts and perspectives. Please continue by sending your submissions to http://sagharborhist@gmail.com
DAVID BRAY
I was not residing in Sag Harbor after 50 years but had just begun being a resident at Peconic Landing when the sequestering began. I am still sequestered after almost two months. Peconic Landing is still providing services which I might not be receiving if I still was residing in Sag Harbor.
BARBARA SCHWARTZ
The pandemic of 2020 and how I celebrated my 90th birthday.
It is March 20, 2020 and I am recording my birthday in the midst of the Corona virus. I have lived through the depression, stock market crash, World War II, 9/11 in NYC and I will survive this. During World War II I never felt afraid, we kept busy knitting for the soldiers, collecting aluminum foil, growing victory gardens and other activities. We heard about the war on the radio or saw pieces of it in newsreels on Saturday at the movies but it wasn’t broadcast 24 hours a day on TV as it is now. We had to deal with rationing, I still have my ration book, and we had to darken our windows at night but we weren’t quarantined and isolated as we are now.
A party at Brian & Linda’s was planned for tonight with Deirdre, Liam, Ann, Kathy & Maureen but it had to be cancelled as we were staying indoors. I baked cupcakes and iced them in the morning and that evening face-timed Deirdre and Liam and Sam and they were face-timing with Anna and Nick. We lit our candles and then sang Happy Birthday to one another and blew them out. Liam and Sam baked a pineapple upside down cake for Deirdre. As we were singing my doorbell rang and out in the road in front of my house were my neighbors, about a dozen of them, singing Happy Birthday to me. What a day it was. Despite the gloom and darkness, there was light and gladness tonight. Thank you Sag Harbor.
March 21, 2020 The celebration continued. My neighbors who were in California and Florida sent their greeting on Facebook and said they were sorry they could not be here to join the singing.
My grocery delivery from Serene Green arrived and in the bag was a little pound cake and a birthday card. Everyone has been so nice.
I place an order with Peapod two weeks ago and it will arrive the 30th. They are really busy. My drug store delivered my prescription so there is no need for me to go out.
Today I sent both of my granddaughters, who are nurses, chocolate covered strawberries to thank them for what they are doing in the hospitals under trying circumstances.
Wednesday my order from Everyplate arrived and I started cooking my dinners. It was a box with enough ingredients to make six dinners. That should keep the wolf from my door. On Monday my Peapod order finally arrives, it has taken two weeks to get a delivery date.
I have cleaned my office, organized my desk and will now start on the storage room down stairs. I should have the house pretty organized by the time we are able to go outside again. I do hope we can still have my birthday party with the whole family that is planned for July. We will just have to wait and see.
JUDITH LONG
Coronavirus Diary (March 16)
Liquor store guy asked me to supply my own pen to sign the receipt. I did.
NPR reports that health workers are taught how to get in and out of their hazmat suits correctly. The protocol is called “don” and “doff”—so courtly, so lovely.
Odd disappearances at Schiavoni's: plenty of eggs, milk and produce. No cheese, oranges, or honey-crisp apples (plenty of other varieties).
Chapped hands from scrubbing for 20 seconds. Never used to wash hands much, as they got clean washing dishes (am I alone in never having owned a dishwasher?).
It looked like Easter Sunday at Long Beach on Wednesday. Tons of adults and kids strolling, walking dogs, riding bikes, flying kites, greeting each other, smiling. Coronavirus briefly forgotten
Coronavirus Diary—II (March 21)
Not isolating! The virus is turning us into socialites. Emailed next-door neighbor Lee and suggested a short walk. We’ve been mentioning this idea for months. Have never done it. Now we do it at social distance. We bump into her neighbor on the other side, who offers us help if needed: “I know you live alone.” (On people offering help: It’s the old double-edged sword: pleasing but I feel as I do when someone gives me their seat on the subway. Really? I look that feeble?)
On to the deli, where we social-distance chat with a couple of Latinos eating at the picnic table. Back down the sidewalk, we bump into Lee's daughter. More social-distance chit-chat. (I may now be able to tell her two daughters apart.) We head across the street and call on another neighbor—a first. We all seem more chatty and friendly these days.
The Long Beach lot is parked up as if it’s a Sunday in June. Some jerk in a sports car had the nerve to honk repeatedly at a walker strolling down the parking lot, as we tend to do. She held her ground and did not move over. We don’t reward rudeness. All he had to do was say Excuse me.
A friend sends a picture of empty bread shelves at her grocery, except one section: gluten-free bread. Full. No one wants it. Ha ha ha ha.
