I asked my Creative Writing students to share what it was like to find out they had to leave campus. They got the news on March 13, and by March 15, they were gone. (They are going to class online for now.)
Andrea Lyndaker: All of campus had been hearing about this virus for a while, but we didn’t think it would affect us. When the school bought hand sanitizer and wipes and vitamin C and told us to wash our hands for 20 seconds, we thought they were just being cautious. But it wasn’t going to affect us, right? All this needless fear, we thought. It will blow over. On Thursday the faculty had a meeting. We were all anxious and partly listening and partly distracted. They won’t send us home, right? They said they’d announce their decision on Friday during chapel. We practically held our breath until then. Couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. I think at that point, all of us were really quite afraid.
Zachary Sopczynski: The Thursday night before we got sent home everyone in the guys dorm was talking about it. EVERYONE. What was shocking to me the next morning in SpiFo [Spiritual Formation]: the scripture reading was Jesus talking about the end times. I was stunned. Right now my soul is mostly at peace. Certain people come to my mind; memories pop in from nowhere. But I keep moving. Those were the days, and now these are the days; at least that’s what I tell myself. I believe this is a great time. It’s different, and I believe God can use this to rattle our cages a bit.
“How do you say goodbye so suddenly without knowing
if you’ll be back?”
Kristen Hedstrom: It was like something had shifted. There was a kind of stillness, the kind that only comes after a sudden storm. Everyone began to process, each a little differently. There were tears, there was silence, there was confusion. No one really knew how to handle it. This isn’t one of the things they prepare you for. How do you say goodbye so suddenly without knowing if you’ll be back?
Cody Miller: Well, this was unexpected. When news first came to campus about COVID-19, it was only talked about as a topic of interest, not as a pandemic that would affect all of us. I guess this isn’t much different from what the rest of America experienced. On March 12, the panic really started. I think most everyone expected the panic to settle down. But here we are, either hanging out at home or stuffed in an apartment somewhere.
Malia Schrader: (Staying on campus) Now I sit by the window in my small Rosedale apartment and stare over the empty campus. If I strain hard I can hear voices from the past drift up to me; I can still see people walking to and fro, backpacks on their shoulders and conversation on their lips. I long to bring these memories back to life. It’s hard to stare down at this ghost school that once brimmed with energy. It’s hard to believe that only a few days ago, students flooded the sidewalks, talking and laughing—only a few days ago, the classroom
s exploded with laughter and discussion; only a few days ago, we played volleyball and sang songs and were all here, together.
Paige Johnson: On the last night we were at Rosedale, a dear friend and I walked back to the dorm from the student center together. I stopped halfway and stood there, frozen between two frames of life. The next morning she was leaving, and I would be leaving soon after. I started to tear up. This wasn’t supposed to be our last time. I felt robbed, left empty-handed, as if a thief in the night had taken all I had been carrying with me. I wanted to go back to my room, where we would talk and things would be okay. Instead, I started to walk again and took a deep breath. Things would be different tomorrow night, and that is going to be okay.
Kendall Ramer: I have a vague weight of frustration and inconvenience resting heavy on my shoulders, and that is more difficult to bear without the RBC community.
Courtney Kuepfer: My mind races to that dusk on the hill. Moments earlier we had been running around in a game of ultimate Frisbee. “Race you to the hill,” I challenged Annika.
“Oh, you are so on!”
Heavy breathing. “Wow! Just look at that sunset!” I said. “This is the one good thing Ohio has to offer!”
Lost in the moment. This may be the last sunset I’ll see. I’ll take it in. This may be the last air I’ll breathe; I’ll breathe it in. (From “Lost in the Moment” by NF.)
