This Heartland Summer
Those lazy, hazy — and, especially this summer, crazy — days of summer have come to the Heartland again. That means — as it always has — hot, humid days and fireflies at night. But this summer is different — oh, so different — because of the coronavirus.
Yes, flowers still bloom at Bandshell Park just down from our place on Duff Avenue in Ames — but the city’s municipal band will not fill the park’s historic bandshell with the sound of music this summer. Those band concerts have been canceled — as have the Sunday afternoon musical performances in nearby Roosevelt Park. Gone also are the city’s annual Fourth of July festivities, which include the wildly popular parade on the Fourth and the giant fireworks show the night before.
Businesses on Main Street have struggled to re-open after their mandatory closures earlier this year — and most of those that have opened again have cautionary signs on their entrances — signs of the times, indeed, here in Ames.
And the farmer’s market on Main Street — which usually draws hordes of people on Saturday mornings — is now a shell of its former self. Crowds have been vastly reduced — and, from what I saw this past Saturday morning — virtually no customers who were under the age of 35 or so were social distancing or wearing masks.
And that last part is what’s causing concern in this lovely old college town. Ames has seen a significant surge in coronavirus cases in the past few weeks — most of them involving “people between 19 and 25,” as health officials discretely say. Everyone around these parts knows what that means — that young people — some of them Iowa State University football players — have been frequenting bars in Campustown west of the university and infecting each other with the virus. It’s gotten so bad in recent days that at least a half-dozen drinking and eating establishments out that way have closed their doors again to try to slow the spread of the virus.
Of course, the same thing is happening across this great country of ours. The coronavirus is now being passed along largely by younger people. Some are simply being irresponsible. Some simply don’t care whether they get it or spread it — because, after all, they and their friends are immortal. Some think it’s somehow a violation of their God-given (and constitutional) rights to be asked to wear masks. And some likely think this whole coronavirus thing is a “hoax,” cooked up by Democrats to embarrass the current president. Whoo, boy. If ignorance is bliss….
For Ames, the worst is yet to come. Right now, only a few students and athletes (yes, I purposely refer to them separately) are on or near campus. But come mid-August, about 28,000 more students will arrive — bringing with them a mighty load of coronavirus that could overwhelm this community. Ames is not alone — the same thing will happen at other universities — and university towns — across the country. Our Story County Board of Health unanimously voted this past week to urge ISU not to allow fans inside Jack Trice Stadium during home football games this fall. The university “answered” the health board by announcing, within hours, that fans will, indeed, be inside the stadium — though only half as many as usual will be admitted. For Iowa State, that means 30,000 fans will show up during each of the seven home games — and all I can say is, it’s a good thing they will be social distancing, wearing masks and trying to keep themselves and others safe.
Sure, they will.
We have returned to Ames this summer because we have a home here and because we think it’s one of the best places we’ve ever lived. We are doing — or trying to do — some of the same things we’ve traditionally done when we’re here — walking or bicycling through Old Town, with its lovely Victorian homes and green lawns and giant, gorgeous trees that canopy the streets — seeing, or trying to see, friends — and simply enjoying the Good Life that the Midwest offers. But we are not eating inside our favorite restaurants — take-out will have to do. Sharon is not volunteering, as she has in years past, at Reiman Gardens — and I am not going inside the local radio station where I normally do my newscasts during the summer. I’m still doing those newscasts — but I’m recording them inside our own place, which is just a few blocks from the station. Yes, it takes me longer to record them than it would take to walk to the station.
And while much has changed here this summer, a few things have, thankfully, endured. This past Friday night, we had an absolutely gorgeous sunset — enough clouds at just the right time to create one of those scenes you simply have to stop and take note of. And rabbits and squirrels — lots of rabbits and lots of squirrels — are still making themselves at home all over Old Town. In spite of continuing efforts on my part, those critters refuse to accept offers of friendship. Go figure.
And then there are those fireflies.
So there are still enough reasons, in this Summer of Our Discontent, to justify having come cross-country to Ames. We hope that with all the precautions we’re taking, this summer will prove to be nearly as enjoyable as our previous stays have been. We’ll see.