While growing up in a time of disaster movies and three television networks, I thought there was a decent chance I'd experience a pandemic at some point.
Nothing like COVID-19, of course. More likely because some secret government lab allowed a virus to escape, this time one that couldn't be stopped by the Six Million Dollar Man or Jim Rockford (Of course, I presume that's not what happened in 2020.)
A pandemic was on the list of how I feared I would die, but it was low on the list. Because growing up in the Nixon-Ford-Carter era meant that there were plenty of horrible ways to die, displayed regularly at the theater or on TV shows. Turns out most of the ways don't really happen much, but you couldn't have convinced the 12-year-old version of me of that.
Now I realize I'm most likely to die in some boring, conventional way. But when I was young, there were a series of dramatic ways I expected to meet my demise:
Quicksand. It's become a cliche for people of my age group to refer to the amount of quicksand in childhood TV shows, but it's true. Here's what I learned: Quicksand can be anywhere and if you struggle, it only gets worse. The secret is to wait for a cowboy to come and pull you out by a rope. Note: I've never seen quicksand.
Rattlesnakes. If you walk in the forest – or in the desert or across the plains or around a campsite – there's risk of being bit by a rattler. At least that's what I thought: They're always ready to strike and if you get bit, you have to suck the venom out immediately. Note: I've never seen a rattlesnake.
Army ants. Frankly, I never saw a movie with army ants, but my friends did, which was enough. Do army ants eat you? Carry you off? Put you in a prison camp? I don't know, but I know that army ants are a menace and they may come for us at any time. Note: I've never seen army ants.
Killer bees. These are a real thing and in my childhood, they were menacing. I spent a fair amount of time considering my escape plan if a huge swarm of bees worked together to kill me (by stinging me to death? That wasn't clear). When my sister and I crashed into a wasp's nest while sliding in a cardboard box down a hill (the 1970s!), we had a bad bee experience, so I didn't want killer bees. They seemed worse. Note: I've never seen killer bees.
A blow to the temple. A persistent legend of my childhood was that if someone hit you in the temple – your head, not a Jewish place of worship – you would die. A baseball could kill you if it hit you in the spot just in front of and above your ear. Apparently a dodgeball couldn't, because I was hit there by more than one dodgeball. Note: I've been hit in the temple and survived.
Dying in a dream. If you die in your dream – if you hit the ground while falling or get shot or drown – you die in real life. That's what everybody said in those days and I believed them. I had few scary dreams, so that wasn't a big deal, but still . . . it was something to worry about. Note: I've never died in a dream.
Now it's 2020. Decades after fearing killer bees and army ants and quicksand and rattlesnakes and being hit in the temple by a baseball, I'm living through a pandemic. While it's dangerous, it turns out that it's much easier than avoiding quicksand or a rattler while walking around a campsite. Note: I've now seen a pandemic.
Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.
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