What It All Means–NOVA-LO Professor Reflects on Adversity, Resiliency

I tell my students that history is about studying the process of change over time. Or more simply, as a historian, I think about the past and what it all means. With the pandemic, I find myself thinking not just about the effect of past pandemics on societies, but a lot about my personal family history as a way of coping with things like stay at home orders and flattening curves. You know — what it all means.

Growing up in Massachusetts, I always knew the story of my paternal grandfather’s first wife. She died during the 1918 flu pandemic, which we hear a lot about these days. My paternal grandmother, a nurse, moved to Massachusetts owing to a nursing shortage there. A few years later, she met and married my grandfather. But for the 1918 pandemic, my dad would not have been born. I would not be here. My kids would not be here. I think about that a lot these days.

Then in the Great Depression, that same grandfather’s only child, a daughter, from his first marriage died. He and my grandmother then raised his grandson – my dad’s nephew – who was just a few years younger than my dad. And despite a once solid career as an engineer, my grandfather lost his job, signed his house over to the bank, and found work with the New Deal recovery programs. Eventually my grandparents owned a house again, but then, in 1965, my grandfather moved in with us after the death of my grandmother. Lots to endure during his life, but I remember him as cheerful and resilient. He kept candy in his room that he would let me sneak too soon before dinner and walked with me in the woods behind our house.

My other grandparents lived in a small South Carolina town, and also knew hardship during the Depression. My maternal grandfather was the town doctor so always had work, but of course, people could not always pay. When they could, it was typically in kind — eggs, vegetables, homemade bread. Other times, he served as a doctor away from home with the Tennessee Valley Authority or Civilian Conservation Corps, also part of the New Deal. Before his death from heart failure, he made the difficult decision to arrange for long-term care for my grandmother, who suffered from severe dementia. But I remember a man of grace, endurance and good cheer.

And so to my parents, born in 1926 and 1928, who knew nothing but the Depression from the time they were toddlers and then right into World War II by the time they were teens. They were part of what is called the Greatest Generation. My dad was a sophomore in high school on December 7, 1941, when the attack on Pearl Harbor brought the United States into the war. At that moment in time, my dad and his friends knew the fate that their 18th birthdays would bring. His best friend turned 18 early enough during senior year that he fought in the famous Battle of the Bulge before eventually coming home to finish high school. My dad was lucky. With a June birthday, he turned 18 right at graduation, and within days, he and a couple friends drove across country in a car they junked in San Diego as they reported to the Navy.

I know I am not done thinking about all this, but I do know that my family’s story is typical of many families. From adversity, good things can eventually happen. The human spirit is strong and resilient. So we will endure social and physical distancing, which seems like an easy way to protect a life. And, this of course, is what it all means.

Laurie West Van Hook, JD, PhD, is an Adjunct Associate Professor of History at NOVA Loudoun. She also teaches international business law and ethics in the University of Maryland Global Campus MBA Program. Dr Van Hook formerly worked as a historian at the Office of the Director of National Intelligence and at the U.S. Department of State.