By David Fortier 

Come Sunday morning, we will have managed to get through the remnants of Ida with a momentary flicker of the lights, much more fortunate than some others in town and certainly more fortunate than two members of the TBE staff, who ended up bailing gallons of water from their basements and spending hours cleaning up. 

My only direct encounter with the flooding came the next morning after crossing Rt. 229 on to E. Bartlett Barnes Bridge where two inches of mud had accumulated from what had apparently been a water mess. I can remember years ago, when I lived off Lake Ave. and heard that that the Pequabuck would be rising to dangerous heights.  

I was a teenager, so I got on my bike and rode down to the bridge over the Pequabuck and stood there as the waters roared under me, the spray from the surging waters rising in the air, stinging my cheeks and soaking my jacket. On that day, the waters did not overflow the bridge, but I have never forgotten the power of the river, a sleepy one by all accounts, until awaken. 

I continue to follow developments in New Orleans, where things are pretty bad. At the same time, I would never have anticipated what happened in the tri-state area, especially New York City. And then there are the fires out west and developments in Afghanistan. Again, I am not in the middle of things, but they do take a toll. And then there is the whole climate change issue, and every indication that storms will be increasing in their ferocity and frequency. 

What was it Billy Pilgram said in Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five? “And so it goes.” 

While that sounds fatalistic, that is not the impression I would like to leave. Rather, being the eternal optimist, I remain hopeful, optimistic, engaged, despite the obstacles we encounter.  

And then again by Sunday morning, I will have spent a week in school, the last two days teaching. Six weeks out from knee replacement surgery, and I made it. I am pacing myself. Two times every day, I get an ice pack from the nurse and apply it for 10 or so minutes. It helps. Other times, I stretch and elevate. If that is as bad as it gets, I am doing fairly well.  

It is good to see students in the classroom. They are all masked. They appear to be excited to be in school, especially the seniors. It occurred to me that some sophomores, at least where I teach in Rocky Hill, have never been in the school—with remote learning and having had the option of remaining home. That makes two graduating classes with little knowledge of the school in the building at the same time. 

Around here, once we get beyond Labor Day, there is a bunch of stuff happening. 

This week’s reading/listening recommendation: “This isn’t your grandpa’s Joe Biden.” It’s another Ezra Klein podcast. I admit my listening and reading has been limited lately, so I find myself going to a few of my favorites. This podcast discusses in some depth a shift in direction of the president’s economic choices. 

Have a good week! 

“Come Sunday morning” is intended to be a weekly review, a recounting of the past week and an anticipation of week to come. Among its features will be reviews of old and new books, sharing of favorite podcasts, some family news, Bristol events and happenings and issues surrounding education, work and community journalism. He can be reached at dfortier@bristoledition.org.