We comfort because we care. We comfort because we love. We comfort because of the Golden Rule. A late colleague at the National Transportation Safety Board said it best: “If something happens to me, who will walk my mother through the airport to get to where I am?”
We are the sum of our experiences—our knowledge and our training—that allow and require us to comfort. I couldn’t have been one of the founders of disaster spiritual care at the Red Cross if I hadn’t lived through the AIDS epidemic in New York City. If I hadn’t been exposed to princesses and poverty, how could I relate to those whose life resources and perspective are so dramatically different yet contain the same need for support following trauma? If I hadn’t worked at the Cabrini Hospice and personally lost all those friends, how could I sit with those who had just lost their loved one in a plane crash or hurricane? If I hadn’t seen the beauty of whales in Antarctica and leopards in South Africa, the birds of Brazil, and koalas in Australia, how could I sit with the violence of the natural world after disasters like Katrina and Harvey? If I hadn’t appreciated and valued the extraordinary gifts and opportunities that I have been given, how could I sit and companion those who have lost everything?
Finding and offering comfort starts in the good times during the joy and celebration of living in relationships and light and love. Creating memories and cherishing them. Trauma accumulates and throws life terribly out of balance. Catastrophes are violent and unjust. Disasters take and destroy and erase.
Responding to disasters is not for everybody. There are those who may be enduring illness, or recent death, and need to mourn fully and honestly. It’s okay to say, “No, now is not a good time.” Sometimes I feel that I have spent ten years at Ground Zero and that one more death will push me over the edge; that in my woundedness I can’t tolerate one more death. There are times when, even with intense clinical training, small group process and support, disciplined self-care and expertise, death becomes intolerable. Any death.
But I keep going. I keep going in memory of my colleagues like Marcia and Susan and so many unnamed but not forgotten partners in relief. I keep going because of victims like the young boy who begged for help after Katrina. I keep going for all those who were senselessly cut down in Orlando. It is a cliché, but death truly doesn’t take a holiday, and it is both my honor and my duty to keep going.
There are those whose gifts for advocacy and social justice define a speaking role for those who have lost everything. And there are those who seek mercy and meaning in the catastrophic nature of things and the violence that continue to plague us every day. I have learned not to put a Band-Aid on a broken bone or a cold compress on a broken heart. All disaster victims and survivors should have equal access to emergency assistance and long-term care. I have an inherent sensitivity to marginalized people, and I have found that instances of discrimination can be very subtle in disaster.
Finding comfort is about our need to help other people. Finding comfort is about helping ourselves by helping other people. As Anton Boisen, a famous American chaplain, once said, “It’s about being deeply enough connected with ourselves and the Ground of Being that we are able to accurately take in the available information and use it with wisdom for the well-being of others and self.”
Even with profound faith, group nurture, prayer, and the support of a wise and seasoned team, part of our humanity is the realization that no one is immune to the horrors and complexities of death. It’s not normal to wish to die or to work with death, to chaplain those traumatized by the killing fields of war, planes that fall out of the sky, mall and movie theater and school shootings, or the increasing strength and duration of Big Killer Weather.
Working in disaster has made me see the need for more public services, more public health, public safety, public education, and better housing. There are so many unmet needs and so many persons who need our help. A chaplain can apply a tourniquet but also needs to know when it’s time to step back and allow others to take over.
The American Red Cross has a celebrity cabinet that would raise money and morale for the organization. After major catastrophic disasters there would be a telethon that would raise millions of dollars. The power of celebrity to comfort, to fund raise, to publicize disasters is phenomenal. Think of Brad Pitt and Harry Connick Jr. after Hurricane Katrina. Remember Bruce Springsteen singing in Madison Square Garden after 9/11. And all the country music stars that pulled together after the massive shooting in Las Vegas. These are the ways that celebrity focuses the attention of the public not only on the victims but on the need for continuing aid.
Disaster comes to everyone. Disaster comes to the comforter. While I was modeling in Milan in 1989, I received word that my father had had a stroke in Columbia, Missouri. I immediately flew home to say goodbye. Unfortunately, he passed before I could get there. While he lay dying, I had been sitting on a British Airways 747 that was delayed because of a fire in the airport kitchen. When I finally arrived home, I was comforted by my mother, sister, aunts, nieces, nephews, and cousins. The only clergy present, besides me, was my cousin John.
I was wearing sunglasses, but one could tell that I was crying. Everyone knew that I had been on assignment in Milan, but as was pointed out by one cousin, it was my appearance modeling a windbreaker in the JC Penney catalog that cemented my celebrity, even with a small c.
At the funeral, we played my father’s favorite Count Basie tune, while my sister and I spoke celebrating his life. My dad was finally at peace, while I was full of grief and pain. This personal tragedy only inspired me to have more compassion when helping others whose pain is so much more public.
Disasters changed me. Wherever there is suffering, there is a need for comfort. There is a need for much information and reassurance. Yet there may also be anger for the seeming randomness of whatever has occurred. Often I found myself repeating the following prayer of lamentation silently.
Let me tell you how I am helping. Let me tell you how much I care. Let me not blame you for living in harm’s way. Let me not blame you for being poor. Let me not preach caution and vigilance. Help me understand how the water got in your screen doors. I’m sorry for your losses and living on the Gulf Coast. I’m standing in the middle of the highway and wiping the camera lens so staging can be visible to the nation and the world. I am here to bear witness. I’m here to tell the story of your suffering to comfort those in another world. I know bad things happen to good people. I know that umbrellas float away. I want so much to save you, to save anybody, I want my life to matter. I want to comfort and grieve for the world before the flood. I want to see photographs from before the rain. I want the buses to arrive. I want basic emergency needs. I want people to know how much pain there is underwater. I need to trust and obey. Amen.
Victims of these disaster will be forever changed and, for some, forever defined by the plane crash, the tornado in the night, the explosion, and the gunshot.
One knows that if you are in close proximity to a natural or human-caused disaster, you already are a first responder by being in the wrong place at the right time (or right place at the wrong time). One is also a victim and basically needs to get out of harm’s way. You can help with immediate needs (e.g., getting the kids out of the school bus), but then you become a liability in due order and get in the way of those specially trained in search and rescue or search and recovery. During the Minneapolis bridge collapse, for example, well-meaning drivers in cars already pulled over to safety were eager to help rescue the school children on the teetering bus. However, by the time emergency personnel arrived, they were more of a hindrance than a help as their lack of training impeded the safety of all concerned.
I admire and honor many police and fire chaplains and military chaplains I’ve met in my four decades doing this work. They are a profession of comforters. I’ve had the privilege to present at their national conferences and work as a member of training and planning teams who advocated for a common operational field, an infrastructure of partners making immediate sense of the destruction, and pinpointing where the competition to care is addressed and best practices established.
One of the most valuable principles is this: the closer one may be assigned to disaster victims and their loved ones, the higher the professional credentials needed. And those credentials are based upon experience and training, and skills gained from presence and use in disaster settings whether it is in the emergency room or flood plain, a burning nightclub or bloodied classroom.
Yet I have realized that there may be no such thing as a perfect response. Disasters change everyone, victim and volunteer alike. When one returns home one both celebrates helping those in need and mourns for the devastation encountered. It may take years to accept the new reality, the new normal. It may take years for wounds to be mended and healed. This is true for both responders and victims.
When Hurricane Katrina devastated the Gulf Coast, the entire nation and globe witnessed our domestic horror with thousands dead and separated, assistance under-equipped and under-staffed, spontaneous and delayed, and the unprecedented response of humanitarian assistance from around the globe. Hurricanes Harvey and Maria revealed our powerlessness. The story is still being written including our part, the chaplaincy part, the faith community response, the health and mental healthcare part.
The chaos and destruction after disasters of any kind helped me see the value and importance of a strong group of first responders and community emergency manager leaders. Disaster devastation helped me see the importance of a strong and robust public safety initiative that incorporates gun safety and strong mental health initiatives. Working in disaster helped me understand that in the absence of effective schools, hospitals, and other community institutions, a community takes much longer to heal. And finally, insuring that families have good, safe schools and housing before a disaster means their recovery will be much quicker after.
If we commit to furthering public service, health, safety, and education, we will be so much better prepared when disasters occur. I suggest the following initiatives to strengthen communities and help them recover after disaster occurs.
Public service. Recommit ourselves to the honor and privilege of public service. Understanding the strong ethical requirements of public service that is its primary mission as well as its job. Your personal benefit is not economic; it is the awareness that your efforts have made your community a better place by helping our communities become more livable and our families’ future brighter.
Public safety. We commit ourselves to an ultimate type of public service by keeping our communities safe. Our schools safe. Our homes and futures free from fear. Police and fire personnel are generally the most visible representatives for public safety, yet we live in a nation where the public trust in law enforcement has suffered greatly. How can we be safe if those entrusted with our safety are on the firing line from both liberals and conservatives? Are our police officers and fire personnel safer because more people have guns? Police officers need to be supported and should be the only ones packing heat in our communities to insure the public safety. Politicizing fear and demonizing difference divide us as a nation and a family. Yes, there are bad cops, however, police must operate today on the premise that everyone is carrying a gun, even children, and it only takes a split second to kill someone, often someone of color. Standing your ground is meaningless when everyone is afraid of each other and everyone feels they need a gun to protect themselves.
Public health. Commit ourselves to keeping water and air safe. Keep the institutions in our community thriving and healthy. Make healthcare accessible to all, particularly the elderly and children. Develop preventative health initiatives that regulate sugar and fat as a threat to public health, safety, and our welfare along with tobacco, alcohol, and firearms. Mutually assured destruction worked until the costs of building fortresses were no longer effective deterrents. Traditional threats to the health and welfare of our community need to be reevaluated. Future public health threats are not known today. Health challenges may be global in nature and need a global response. We need safe food, food that does not debilitate or paralyze us, food for sustenance and not as the result of addiction to sugar.
Public education. Just as there is a human right to dignity, to be respected, and to equality, there is a human right to clean water, safe communities, and schools. The right to read and write, to speak and to lead, to serve and protect—all people need a foundation of a basic education amidst culture and tradition. Education about our history and legacy that must be cherished in a democracy and maintained. We must commit to revaluing education to improve our lives, and not let it be devalued by those who feel an educated body politic only questions authority.
We can’t prevent all disasters from occurring. They are part of life. But if we devote ourselves to these basic public commitments, all society will be improved and social justice championed and embraced. Alongside the Four Freedoms enshrined as Freedom of Worship, Freedom from Want, Freedom from Fear, and Freedom of Speech, this is my blueprint for hope. This is what I hope continues to be called “America.” And hope is sacred. In a disaster, a strong community with strong institutions and leaders will hasten recovery, even in the worst possible scenario, and that will comfort all of us.
The kids will be extremely angry that their cellphones and iPads don’t work. They may think grandma’s house is a museum of old things like a landline phone that they don’t know how to work. One may not remember log-ins on a new computer and be unable to access one’s account. The car’s battery dies because there is no place to charge it, or older models run out of gas.
The challenges of preparedness will be extremely daunting and parents will need to work diligently with their children or those who are in their care to memorize a disaster plan. There will be a need to memorize telephone numbers and log-ins in the new dark ages. There will be a need to practice dialing on a landline and knowing what numbers to “dial.” Family life must not stop if the cellphones don’t work. There has to be a back-up plan.
Do you know addresses of close relatives one may ask children and practice repeating key information like telephone numbers and concrete locations? Do you know someone with a landline if a family member doesn’t have one? Small children may be mystified and a bit confused by having to push all the numbers on a landline and, for some phones, “Talk.”
And, finally, always have a back-up plan.
I personally can’t imagine what it’s like to have a school-age child today or be the parent of a school-age child. These children have been practicing active shooter drills since kindergarten and have developed resilience beyond comprehension. They just do it and experience it as another “game” in an average school day.
In the future, school children may have go bags in their cubbies in case they have to shelter in place overnight. Being a teacher today has far more responsibilities and concerns that are shared by parents.
Public transportation may be shut down as occurred on September 11 in Washington, DC, and New York City.
There will need to be more creative ways of comforting with an entirely new batch of considerations.
And what about those who are suffering from health and mental health issues before the catastrophic event? A colleague has a friend who is terrified of mall shootings and is unable to go to a shopping center or even a school. This friend has never been in close proximity to one of these events but has been sickened by repeated news of the latest shootings in a mall, movie theater, synagogue, or school. How many others share the same anxiety and fear and what are the mental health costs and solutions to help these people who are legitimately suffering. This is something that can’t be solved with a “mall chaplain” but may need the help of a licensed mental health counselor to be comforted and treated.
There are vast numbers of people who suffer from mental illness and already think that the world has gone crazy, and then one adds a mass fatality event.
It is not fear mongering to know how to do CPR or apply a tourniquet. It will be a comfort knowing basic first aid.
How does one deal with money if credit cards don’t work? One may still be able to text a donation to the Red Cross, but what about rumors of a food riot? This may not be far-fetched due to the number of looting incidents after major disasters. Civil unrest and disorder may become the norm and not the exception. There will be tremendous needs for comfort and reassurance if one cannot feed their family or heat one’s home.
There are many agencies working to ensure that this “Brave New World” will never exist, but our increasing dependency on technology for extremely basic things like communication and sustenance is real.
What about the impact of yearly floods, and weekly shootings? What about when the nation moves on to the newer disaster, without adequately comforting those with longer-term care needs like rebuilding homes and lives? Who will drive one to long-term rehabilitation centers for physical and mental therapy? Who will help pay the bills?
Will there be comforters, someone to talk to, when people’s attention moves on to newer catastrophes?
What about the future of chaplaincy? Of emotional and spiritual care providers and comforters when scarce resources may eliminate support for an entire new generation of comforters? There will always be a need for comforters as long as there are traumatic events.
Technology has changed the entire way one conducts business and how one reacts to disaster. Texting and GoFundMe campaigns have raised millions of dollars for the American Red Cross and individuals. There may be an entire generation that doesn’t know what checks are. When our home was broken into, credit cards were stolen but the checkbook was not. When facing a personal challenge like recovering from a disaster or health issue, how will people cope? Will there be enough comforters that know how to provide emotional and spiritual support beyond material needs?
When I started at the American Red Cross, there were designated family and friends reception sites where parents and other loved ones could reconnect with their children or spouses in the event of a mass fatality disaster. Today, children are able to text their parents where they are, to call them from inside the classroom under attack, to call from the ambulance to say, if they are able, which hospital they are being taken to, and from the emergency room all in real time.
Few have time to read the newspaper a day later about a disaster event when they can get immediate updates on Twitter or Facebook. There will be those who read newspapers online that are frequently updated, but news is much more immediate, information is much more immediate, and people are traumatized by media exposure of events occurring halfway around the globe. Shootings in Nairobi have the impact of shootings in Pittsburgh for some. There is a profound need for comfort, and much of it comes electronically from social media communities online.
There is a theory that social media devices decrease empathy and isolates people more in today’s society. That will impact those who are trying to provide comfort but are unsure as to who needs comfort because one is not in a community setting but may be home alone. Some disasters are more complicated than 140 characters.
There is also a hopeful trend to not publicize the assailant and make him infamous. That is a first step that should be reaffirmed and to keep the focus on the victims and survivors—those who are in great need of comfort. That’s what occurred in New Zealand after the Christchurch mosque shootings.
In some parts of the world, gruesome images of a catastrophe are broadcast and not censored in anyway. Television screens are red with the blood and bodies of those killed in a terrorist bombing or plane crash in the Ukraine. Should the media here become more graphic for impact and viewership? How do these images impact the healing occupations, the comforters? It makes their job much harder dealing with things that magnify trauma.
Sometimes when I’m asked about the comforting fields, I think about wildflower meadows, and it makes me think about Thoreau’s idea of “forest bathing,” going out in the greenery and immersing oneself in nature for its healing and therapeutic value, and without an iPhone! Could a new generation of comforters relax or would they be so anxious to have lost connectivity that one was incapable of empathy? There are major personality traits in comforters like the ability to show kindness and mercy. There are also those who advocate for social justice that show characteristics of perseverance and endurance.
There will be a great need for humanitarians who support the need for emotional and spiritual care because of their belief in the future of humanity. There will be those who learn or know how to manage comfort and see it as a sacred trust, to help one’s fellow man even after repeated traumas that exposure to daily media may cause.
The next generation of spiritual care professionals will know how to comfort and also advocate for the need for comfort. There will continue to be a need for priests and prophets, individuals and communities, who know the importance of emotional and spiritual support in a highly technical world and thrive where they are.
There will be those who still value the power of prayer and the sacred nature of life. We must value and support these future healers.
My humble suggestion would be to consider taking a course in clinical pastoral education or in community emergency response training. The latter is available free of charge in some locales and the former is for those who wish to work with more traumatic disasters.
The tragic school shootings across the country have focused our attention on this type of disaster. This is a criminal act. “We’re not supposed to lose our children in school,” an administrator was quoted on the television that morning. In the classroom of the Amish school, a sign hanging on the wall provided cruel irony as ten little girls were bound and shot: “Visitors Brighten People’s Days.”
What if comfort from the larger community outside the Amish is not requested or needed? What does the comforter do? What if the prevailing culture does not want outside comforting? One must respect the religious beliefs and culture of others.
The Amish are a resilient, resourceful people who address life through their deep Christian faith and lifestyles. The foundation of their faith is bolstered by their extensive sense of self-dependence within their communities. They know what is available to them and will reach out as they deem appropriate.
What we consider a “disaster” is not a disaster to them. An untoward event becomes an opportunity for strengthening their already solid bonds of compassion, love and caring amongst their people. Such an event is a “happening” or ‘“occurrence” of common life and living. It is clearly a part of God’s plan that is accepted with honor. Indeed, there is sadness, however, such an event does not cause them to react with fear for life.[1]
Comfort may need an invitation and may not always be culturally desirable or viable. Religious belief and practice may not be understood by outsiders.
Ebola is another challenge to the comforter. Ebola was and is, again, a global healthcare disaster centered in Africa, a threat to national security, and, for some, a threat to religious freedom. It has been spread due to burial practices of indigenous religious practices. Upon death, bodies are embraced and washed ceremoniously, which then transfers the Ebola virus to those preparing the body for burial. This viral transmission generally infects close family members who are doing the washing and passes along the virus, which is usually fatal. Government and healthcare workers had to educate and secure areas of contamination and develop new methods of mourning and burial so that the virus was contained.
Emotional and spiritual care comfort must take place behind a mask and other personal protective equipment. Stress on medical personnel also presents challenges for comfort. Currently, the US Public Health Service and the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Society are monitoring and involved in the outbreak. The Ebola outbreak is also taking place in an armed conflict zone that impedes halting the virus and magnifying the emergency.
Taking care of the sick and less fortunate is a tenet of all major global religions. Faith groups originally founded our hospitals as part of their mission. Texas Presbyterian Hospital is where the first person in America with Ebola died. It is also the same hospital where the first American became infected in the last outbreak in 2014.
The infection of several American physicians and other healthcare workers was the result of a faith community mission to Africa, to help where the help is needed the most. Medical missionaries have a long tradition of service from founding hospitals and medical schools in China to Africa, whether the threat is a new or known infectious disease, or response to a natural or human-caused disaster, such as the earthquake in Haiti or the AIDS pandemic. There have been many lessons learned, and one needs to remember wisdom gained from the service and sacrifice of those who have gone before us. Healthcare and comfort are part of that long tradition.
What do chaplains (spiritual care professionals) have to do with biological, viral threats? Military and healthcare chaplains have generally been on the front lines in the critical care and urgent emergency medical response to these new infectious agents as well as preparing necessary emotional and spiritual support. Be not afraid, but be informed.
Airport healthcare screenings are nothing new. Remember SARS (severe acute respiratory syndrome)? Infections in 2004 spread across the globe due to global air travel, and culture played a part in its transmission. Passengers getting off international flights had their temperature taken at major hub airports in the United States and across the world. Due to many fatalities in China, and the absence of a vaccine, some passengers with fever were quarantined. After SARS was identified and the public was educated about its transmission and containment, knowledge lessened anxiety. Still, there is a profound need for support and comfort.
Public health working with global media shared the advances in the identification of the virus that caused AIDS and how one could prevent the transmission through the exchange of bodily fluids, needle exchange, and the vital dialog about religious practice. Therefore, what we learned about AIDS helped us when we had the SARS outbreak in 2004.
As soon as the CDC and the World Health Organization could mobilize and identify the cause and source of the SARS virus, an action plan was made to contain and treat the virus. However, a passenger(s) who flew transcontinental transmitted the SARS virus from China and Southeast Asia to Canada.
At the same time, after the September 11 attacks on our nation, weapons of mass destruction/terrorism concerns also came to include biological and chemical weapons. All hazard plans for preparedness and response became a regular part of local emergency response and also our healthcare industry. Medical centers regularly practiced emergency response drills along with first responders from police and fire departments, which extended from national, state, and local stakeholders to including our military, now tasked with protecting the homeland. Emotional and spiritual care comforters are essential elements of the emergency response plan.
Hospital chaplains are trained regularly about PPEs (personal protective equipment) and regularly wear it when visiting the extremely vulnerable in pediatric neonatal, oncology, and other intensive care units. One must wear protective covering including masks and gowns to prevent infections to the incredibly vulnerable patient. Fear of infecting a patient as well as a patient infecting a healthcare worker or visitor created an essential standard of care and practice in these acute settings. There was still the need for comfort as families dealt with the critical health issues.
I called the pastoral care director of the Toronto hospital that cared for a majority of SARS patients during that 2002 outbreak in Canada that started in China. I asked about reflections made and best practices in the weeks after the crisis passed.
My colleague shared that the initial email request and follow-up phone call came somewhat as a surprise. When one is in the eye of the hurricane, one’s focus in where it needs to be—there, in the moment and not focused on rebuilding, but on merely surviving, hour by hour, day by day.
Initially, the hospital management had made the decision to dismiss all nonessential personnel from the acute care campus; doctors and nurses would shelter in place for the treatment and care of their critically ill patients. Chaplains were among those excluded from the critical care core group until after the first day of the quarantine. What was experienced was a spike in anxiety by both healthcare workers and patients. There was no one inside the bubble to deal with the profound emotional and spiritual issues identified in those early hours. There was no one there to offer comfort and reassurance. There was no one to represent hope. Highly credentialed healthcare chaplains, who are clinically trained and board certified, know how to be the nonanxious presence whether in the healthcare arena or heat of battle. War on AIDS. War on SARS. War on Ebola. War on measles.
The chaplains in the Toronto medical center were invited back for their essential specialties; supporting and comforting the staff and supporting and comforting their patients dealing with unimaginable anxiety. But the quarantine for SARS was already broken. The cultural and religious practices of one of the nurses compelled him to attend Saturday evening worship services in his local congregation, which potentially exposed upward of another 120 persons to the virus that caused SARS. Normally, the threat of exposing others is cause enough for public health and local law enforcement to prevent a larger potential healthcare risk, but, in this instance, few could imagine this scenario. How could a healthcare professional defy the quarantine? There are those who believe that their faith will protect them from infection and transmission. However, there were Toronto congregations that cancelled worship services and developed a telephone tree to deliver meals to the elderly or homebound. Comfort was also delivered through these same methods. Imagine the fear and need for comfort? Imagine the cultural challenges and impediments to comfort.
Visitors could spread disease and traditional methods of comforting may also spread disease. Outbreaks of infectious diseases create great fear and anxiety and the need for emotional and spiritual care. The need for comfort is extremely evident.
On September 11, I was chaplain educator on staff at a Washington, DC, hospital, where a number of burn victims from the Pentagon were brought for critical care. A disaster plan was implemented that called for hundreds of patients to be discharged to make way for those more critically injured. Thousands showed up to donate blood, to help in any way possible, and there was one local faith group that wished to “lay hands” on the burn victims for their immediate healing and end to their suffering. While balancing a respect for all religious traditions, a hospital chaplain affirmed the religious belief and intent of the group and offered a distant conference area for the group to pray for those so critically injured in the attack, but also took the opportunity to explain the importance of infection control. The vulnerability of burn victims to infectious agents mandated a sterile environment, a nonnegotiable. Comfort must never be contagious.
For these and future epidemics, we need both science and faith. There are generals who will not go into battle without the presence of chaplains, and there are physicians who understand the treatment of the whole patient, treatment not only of the physical ailment or injury, but also the emotional and spiritual support included in the plan of care. We have a mission and duty to prevent future disasters. We have a commitment to serve one another with comfort care, cultural sensitivity, and respect.
The measles outbreak in upper New York state in an orthodox Jewish community is another example of a public health emergency and a disaster. While measles was wiped out earlier this century, it has come back with a vengeance in certain parts of the country due to a combination of religious belief and refusing immunization.
Measles is highly contagious and a serious respiratory illness and has been the subject of many anti-vaccination advocates that cite religion and cultural reasons for not getting the vaccine. There are almost 1,000 new cases nationally in twenty states as of this writing and children are particularly vulnerable to the disease. Some states have declared public health emergencies. Emotional and spiritual comfort care is needed; however, there are those who feel this disaster could have been avoided if only children and adults had been vaccinated for what is a preventable disease.
In the end, comfort must be sensitive to cultural norms.
Jerry Griffin, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, chaplain.