In a brief bout of unprecedented innocence during the third week of last March, we sat back on our collective backsides (or couches for some) and watched the world come to an almost complete halt.
Markets crashed, businesses shut their doors, store shelves emptied, I-70 traffic became nonexistent, and most glaring around here – the ski mountains closed, while we were left staring at each other, thinking, “What the hell do we do now?”
My wife and I had just returned from skiing in Snowbird and visiting family in Utah, listening intently to news reports all the way home, beginning to finally believe there might really be something to the whole COVID thing.