SEDRO-WOOLLEY, Wash. (AP) – With dish soap, brushes and plastic water jugs in hand, Carole Rae Woodmansee’s four children cleaned the tombstone their mother shares with their father, Jim. Each scrub outlined engraved letters outlining their mother’s name and the days of her birth and death: March 27, 1939 and March 27, 2020.
Carole passed away on her 81st birthday.
The morning was a year since she died of COVID-19 complications after contracting it during a choir rehearsal that killed 53 people and killed two – an event in the superspreader that would become one of the most important transmission episodes. to understand the virus.
For the brothers and sisters, the gloomy anniversary provided an opportunity to conclude after the pandemic hampered their mourning. They eventually held a memorial that matches their mother’s footprint in the community.
The most difficult thing is that no farewell was taken. It was as if she had just disappeared, “said Carole’s youngest child, Wendy Jensen.
After cleaning, the siblings remember it. They say their father should be happy to be back with his 46-year-old wife. They thank them for being good parents and remember how their mother used to say ‘me’ before mentioning their names and those of other loved ones.
“I was always ‘My Bonnie,'” Bonnie Dawson tells her siblings. “I miss ‘My Bonnie.’
“She’s been missing Dad for a long time,” adds older brother or sister Linda Holeman. Their father, Jim, passed away in 2003.
Of the more than 550,000 people who died from the virus in America, Carole was one of the first. Her death came weeks after the first outbreak was reported at a nursing home in Kirkland, about an hour south of Mount Vernon. Carole, who survived heart surgery and cancer, fell ill at her home. Bonnie cared for her until they called the paramedics.
‘You’re trying to say goodbye to your mother and tell yourself to come back. It was very difficult, emotional … to have to shout, ‘I love you, Mom,’ as she was driven to the door by men standing 10 feet in our yard because they did not want to be near our house. not, ‘Bonnie said.
The rehearsal of the Skagit Valley Chorale, a community choir composed mostly of retirees and not affiliated with the church where they practiced, closed the state two weeks before the Jay Inslee government. The choir took the then known precautions, such as giving up and disinfecting. But someone had the virus.
‘The choir itself called us directly, and they left a voicemail. The voicemail said that a positive person in the choir, 24 people are now ill, ‘says Lea Hamner, communicable disease and epidemiologist for Skagit County Public Health. “It was immediately clear that we had a big problem.”
Hamner and her team went to work to maintain choir members, often repeatedly, and those they came in contact with after rehearsal, a total of 122 people. They put the evening together carefully and watched things like where people were sitting and who were eating cookies or stacking chairs.
The level of access and detail is scarce under outbreak investigations, Hamner said. When business took off in the country a few weeks later, she sat down to write a report.
“There was a lot of resistance to calling it a disease in the air,” Hamner said. ‘But we found this middle ground of this disease which can be both drops and in the air. So it was a big shift. After the newspaper, the CDC began to recognize air shipment. ”
The outbreak gained notoriety after an article in the Los Angeles Times, which asked other researchers to study the event and further confirm the conclusion that the virus moved through the air during the rehearsal.
“I think this outburst in the choir is considered the one event that really woke people up with the idea that the virus could spread through the air,” said Linsey Marr, a professor of Virginia Tech and expert in air shipping. Marr was among 239 experts who successfully pushed the World Health Organization to change its transmission guidelines.
The other person who died at the choir rehearsal was 83-year-old Nancy “Nicki” Hamilton. Hamilton was originally from New York and settled north of Seattle in the 1990s. She placed a personal ad in the Everett Herald, and so she met her husband.
“We went down to the bowling alley in Everett,” said 85-year-old Victor Hamilton. “We picked it up from there.”
Hamilton could not yet hold a memorial for her. Their families are spread all over the country, and he would like to have it in New York City if possible. He’s watching June 21 – her birthday.
In nearby Mount Vernon, family and friends flock to Radius Church and look at an installation of several dozen photos of Carole put together by the siblings. Wendy also displays a duvet that her daughter made using Carole’s music camp T-shirts.
Pastor Ken Hubbard tells attendees that the service is not really a funeral, but a memorial, a chance to share stories about Carole.
“I’m pretty sure her prayers saved my life for a time or two,” says grandson David Woodmansee.
Loved ones remember Carole’s dedication to her family, faith and music. Others remember how she welcomed them into her family, gave piano lessons, and volunteered for her church.
They sing ‘Blessed Assurance’, her favorite song. The lyrics of it were one of her last words to her children from the hospital.
After the service, the family returns to the cemetery to lay flowers. They also sing again and end the day with a spontaneous, smiling rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’.
Later, Wendy reflects on the choir rehearsal where her mother contracted the virus and notes the knowledge gained that helped promote preventative measures.
“As far as we know, it was God’s plan that she would be a help in that.”
“I think my mother would be willing to give up her life to save lives,” Bonnie said. “That was the kind of person she was.”