The coronavirus pandemic takes me back to high school, and a short story by Shirley Jackson called “The Lottery.” All of the villagers gather each June for the lottery. Some tentatively questioned why. The best answer seemed to be “Lottery in June, corn be heavy soon.” Someone is sacrificed for the harvest. Or maybe for tradition. Nobody stood up to the local authority, Mr. Summers. The lottery proceeds.
First the unlucky family is named. All male heads of household step up and draw a number from the black box. Bill Hutchinson’s family is named. Next each family member draws a folded paper. Bill’s wife, Tessie, defiantly hesitates, but in the end takes her slip. One by one the kids open blank pieces of paper. Their lives are spared. “It’s Tessie,” said Mr. Summers. Her paper is revealed, showing the black dot.
Nobody questions what must come. Tessie is surrounded by her neighbors, stones in hand. She desperately held her hands out. “It isn’t fair, it isn’t right” Mrs. Hutchinson screamed, and then they were upon her.
We are in an inverted version of “The Lottery.” The stones today are the coronavirus. It’s as though the community came together in the square, gathered stones and then started randomly throwing them through the crowd.
When I venture out needlessly, I throw viral stones at you. When you don’t wear a mask, you throw stones at me. We harm each other without meaning to. Tessie didn’t think she’d get the black dot, and neither do we. The pandemic spreads. The bodies pile up.
We can stop this viral lottery by changing our habits. If I stay inside when sick, practice social distancing and cover my face in public, you are protected. If you do the same, I am protected. By changing our habits, we can stop the hail of stones.
Hopefully testing, contact tracing and quarantining will be in place soon. Then we can cautiously start opening things up. Till then we need to hang tough, and keep each other safe. We can get through this.
• Robert Welton is a retired State of Alaska employee, who worked for 17 years as an administrative officer at the Department of Fish and Game. He resides in Douglas. Columns, My Turns and Letters to the Editor represent the view of the author, not the view of the Juneau Empire.
