The very first came from the Fair Oaks Personal Care Home. That's in the south of Pittsburgh proper. Place where they've cared for our seniors since 1891.
The next, I swear, came from a worker at GetGo. Then a volunteer firefighter. Then a truck driver. Then two nurses, a medical technologist, a doctor, an EMT and a self-described Subway 'sandwich artist.'
When we put out word late Monday afternoon that we're offering free full-year subscriptions to anyone contributing to the fight against the coronavirus pandemic, we received 500-plus requests by midnight. They're still arriving as I'm typing this column. And that, in and of itself, is amazing and appreciated. No matter the price -- or lack thereof, in this case -- we'd never lose sight of the value of anyone wanting to read what we have.
But that didn't get me.
The job descriptions and the employer, the only two pieces of information we'd sought from all applicants ... that got me.
Because as they'd stream across my screen, one after the other, it felt like a recitation of what our very new and still uncomfortable society now calls 'essential' jobs. In a normal world, all jobs are that. In this one, where most of us are told that the greatest civil contribution we can make is to sit at home and flip through our iPhones, some really are rising above the rest.
That's what these were: Medical professionals. Grocery workers. Truck drivers. Our first responders. Many more, from a list that's actually a lot longer than maybe we all realize.
We're lucky. We're open for business, even if sports obviously aren't. Times are challenging here, too. But it's terribly different for anyone who's forced to be out and about, whose means of making a living -- or passion, or both -- require the sort of risk that all the rest of us are being ordered not to take.
I've heard directly from more than a few such folks in recent days. One very longtime reader who works in a hospital in the south suburbs was messaging me a couple days ago during breaks within 16-hour shifts. He was grateful for Dale Lolley's latest mock NFL Draft because, for the five minutes it took him to read it, he was transported back to when what mattered most in his life was which running back the Steelers might pick.
Concurrently, I'd been hearing from readers who hoped to pay for subscriptions for those on our new front line. This is how we've all done it here forever, of course, for our military. But I wasn't sure what to do in this instance. I'd never distance the military program, and I knew we genuinely couldn't absorb the cost of opening up a similar program to ... wow, a ton of people.
That's where Michael H. came aboard. I'd love to share his full last name, but he won't let me because he insists on not receiving a sliver of credit. He's a longtime reader living in South Carolina, born and raised up here in Butler County. He's an Original Lunatic, actually, meaning he's been with us since 2014, our first year. And it was his initiative, his extraordinary generosity to offer to cover all our costs in processing all these potential free subscriptions that made it possible.
Not all heroes wear masks, as one might joke these days.
He'll get mad if I keep going. One gets the idea.
[caption id="attachment_973696" align="aligncenter" width="640"] SIGNE WILKINSON / PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER[/caption]
To the hundreds of you coming into our community today, welcome. And thank you. For whatever you do, from the doctor at Johns Hopkins to the U.S. Navy nuclear engineer to the woman who's currently converting alcohol to 'make hand sanitizer for the community at the moment.'
We're proud to have you, and we hope we can return the favor in our own small way by, you know, just talking sports.
Which I'll get back to doing tomorrow, by the way. Sorry, but this had me pleasantly distracted for almost all of yesterday. Today, we're expecting to hear from both Mike Sullivan and Kevin Colbert, in that order, which means there'll be fresh Penguins and Steelers content.
Be safe. Be smart. Be grateful for all the good around us.
To continue reading, log into your account:
