Toilet paper shortages, conference calls and faith: A South Carolina church memoir
Conference calls can be a nightmare, sometimes deadly dull and far too long, but that’s not always the case.
For St.Timothy’s Episcopal Church, a small parish in Columbia that can trace its roots to 1892, the conference call became a source of support and comfort.
As COVID-19 started to spread across the country in early 2020, cities and states shut down. Like the businesses around them, churches closed their doors and had to find new ways to bring their congregations together.
Many turned to Zoom, YouTube and other video services, but St. Timothy’s didn’t have the Internet service needed, so it turned to the next best thing.
With the help of a parishioner who donated a conference call line, the church members started to meet by telephone.
And they soon learned that, in some ways, the pandemic that had turned their world upside down had given them new ways to connect, share and worship.
“After each service, we joined in fellowship, talking about feelings, thankfulness, even tragedies caused by the virus. To those who participated, the telephone was our lifeline to our friends, our faith, our God,” reads the introduction of a group memoir titled “Pandemic Gleanings Reflections of our Members.”
The 52-page document is part diary, part keepsake, part historical record.
“The pandemic was hard to live through,” said church organist Elaine Sandberg, who headed the project to turn individual memories into a collective history.
Sandberg met with Rev. Alice Marie Mills, the priest in charge, and they agreed it would be worthwhile to collect the stories of the parishioners.
Sandberg put a blurb in the church newsletter soliciting submissions and they soon came rolling in.
Each is a mix of sadness, joy, humor, love and faith.
One writer listed her thoughts and feelings including one many of us likely experienced:
FOOD AND OTHER SHORTAGES: Toilet paper was the most cherished item. If we found it, we felt guilty taking the last roll. If toilet tissue was found, we would call family and friends to let them know the location.
That same writer also shared her concerns:
OTHER THOUGHTS: The hardest thing is the REALIZATION that there are so many people discounting the VIRUS. I think back to 1950 when POLIO was the disease everyone feared. My parents trusted the scientists. Science has progressed so far in 71 years.
Some spoke of surviving and loss.
At work we had many safety measures put in place within two weeks. We continued working the whole time of the shutdown. I don’t think any of my coworkers died from the virus. My mother lost 16 close friends to the virus.
Some wrote about what they had learned.
I learned to more freely say: “Thank you.” “I miss you.” “I love you.” I learned how to say “How are you?” and really mean it. I learned to be a better listener. I learned to discern what is really important and how to let the small stuff slide away. Although I still have such a long way to go, the most important lesson Professor Covid taught me was how to be a more loving, compassionate, and grateful Child of God – and what better lesson is there than that?
Some wrote about new connections made through traditional means:
Often in life, it is the little things that end up being the big things – the things we remember, the things that remind us what is important. During the pandemic, a card, a stamp, and a few minutes to put pen to paper became life-lines for both the senders and the receivers.
And they shared the value of humor through it all.
I don’t have any specific humorous memories, but finding reasons to laugh were crucial.
Another wrote:
Humor: None of my own or heard of any. The following joke reminded me of my father and something he would have said, and it caused me to chuckle: “The experts lied! They said a mask and gloves were enough to go to the grocery store. When I got there, everyone else was wearing clothes!”
While the pandemic hasn’t disappeared, Sandberg said compiling the words of the parishioners now serves not only as an historical record, but also a reminder for the present.
“If you read through the recollections, you see many people learned how important the church and its members are to them. Our faith and our God are very important in our lives,” Sandberg said.
Copies of the memoir were distributed to the church members and Sandberg hoped it would also find a place in the local library, perhaps someday giving another generation of South Carolinians reason to look forward.
As one writer put it:
I learned we are all stronger than we thought we were. Sometimes you have to make it one hour to the next.
