The pandemic cast a long shadow over 2021—whether it was the lead story, or the underlying one. Its effect has been so pervasive, and has so effectively disrupted our lives, that it is sometimes difficult to remember just how long we have been living with this viral beast.

It was in February 2020 that The Record filed our first COVID report, covering topics like “How does it spread?” and “What are its symptoms?” and “Is there a vaccine?” At that time, the CDC was bracing for the first coronavirus outbreak in the United States, after cases had already been confirmed in four states, and Hemphill County Hospital was preparing new screening procedures, having reviewed its inventory of surgical and N95 masks and deemed it adequate.

Today, nearly two years later, the virus and its variants are still making headlines. In our review of the year’s most important stories, it was impossible to pretend it didn’t top the list— whether in the near-weekly test reports supplied by the hospital lab, or in news of eagerly-anticipated events that were reluctantly canceled, or in coverage of school board debates over mask requirements or the noticeable impact of remote classes on student learning rates.

COVID’s tendency to rob us of our loved ones was the constant undercurrent in the 105 obituaries we published in the last 12 months—and while it was not always the cause, it was a detail sometimes hidden, sometimes barely hinted at, and sometimes waved like a red flag in the first sentence by a family that wanted others to know the danger.

In our first issues of 2021, we featured the last two stories in our series, “Three Lives: Living and Dying with COVID.” Doug Benge was one of the lucky ones…and didn’t mind saying so. Doug wasn’t just glad 2020 was over. He was glad to have survived it.

Hospitalized for two long weeks in a Liberal’s Southwest Medical Center—completely alone—he told us about the one night it hit him. “I was crying. I was by myself and nobody to talk to. The kids were texting me, and every time I read something, I just cried.”

“The next morning, it was gone,” he said, and while he credited good doctors and good treatments, he knew it was the good Lord that brought him out of it, telling him, “You’re not done yet.” That’s when he decided, “I’m gonna’ whip this.”

The final feature in the series told the story of former Canadian resident and perpetual Wildcat fan Bob Wilburn’s death at Hendricks Medical Center in Abilene—a facility he had entered just two weeks earlier wearing Tommy Bahama shorts and flip-flops. “He didn’t think he would be there that long,” his daughter Julie explained.

The last football game Bob listened to from his hospital bed was the Wildcats’ state quarterfinal victory over the Childress Bobcats. He had been watching Canadian’s games on his laptop, but by then, was unable to hear the play-by-play over the sound of his breathing machine. His wife, Jo, had to connect to the game broadcast on her cellphone, and hold it up to her home phone so Bob could listen. “He died the day before they played Gunter,” daughter Jenny told us. “He would have loved that game.”

COVID reared its ugly head in the most unwelcome places during 2021. “Times are hard right now,” members of the Canadian River Music Festival board said, explaining their reasons for canceling the annual event for the second year due to the pandemic’s impact on the local economy. “Business is slow and people are hurting. We knew that as much as locals love to support CRMF, there are several that just can’t do it now.”

Canadian ISD officials cautiously ended its months-long mask mandate for the final weeks of the school year in 2021. They waited an extra week, though, to evaluate the impact of spring break travels on the virus, agreeing even when the masks were gone that a five-case threshold might trigger the mandate again.

The Hemphill County A&M AgriLife Beef Cattle Conference was another victim of the virus’ spread in 2020. After shuffling dates in hopes that COVID would ease its grip, the event was rescheduled for spring 2021. When the conference was finally held, a packed house deemed it worth the wait, rewarding former President Trump’s former White House press secretary several standing ovations for her speech. Determined not to be outdone by himself, organizer Andy Holloway announced that he had lined up former Secretary of State Mike Pompeo for the 2022 conference—another big draw for the red-meat crowd. Here’s hoping the omicron variant has wreaked its full dose of havoc by then, and the show will go on.

The arrival of summer and outside activity tamed the virus temporarily. Elected officials devoted much of their budget-planning workshops to attempting to decode the rules for spending generous federal appropriations from the American Rescue Plan Act. It was largesse that—despite all the strings attached—would help the Hemphill County Hospital District pay for much-needed equipment like ventilators, portable X-ray machines, and new EMS vehicles, and allow Hemphill County to grant requests from local nonprofits to offset significant revenue losses over the last two years. City officials eyed their wish list of infrastructure improvement projects, and found those funds could be put to good use there, as well.

But with the impending return of the new school year, and the usual flood of events, the coronavirus followed—rested and wearing new shoes. As fall arrived, less than a third of Hemphill County residents were fully vaccinated, according to the Texas Department of Health Services, and healthcare officials were looking desperately for a new cure—this one, for coronavirus vaccine hesitancy.

By the time Wildcat workouts began in early August, Hemphill County Hospital officials were again urging the public to get vaccinated as the delta variant began to spread, and the case counts rose again. By mid-August, Dr. Tony Cook was warning residents again that no ICU beds were available for any patients requiring a higher level of care, adding that he had called over 100 hospitals in six different states looking for a bed for a patient, and failed. “There is nothing,” he said. “We are there again.”

As school got underway, Canadian ISD issued guideline updates, stipulating that mask-wearing was optional—thanks, in part, to Gov. Greg Abbott’s mask and vaccine mandate bans— that sanitation protocols would be followed, and that social distancing was recommended.

Barely a month into the new school year, daily and weekly COVID-19 test positives had resumed their relentless rise in Hemphill County.

COVID was no longer the year’s biggest story. Most public health officials had decided it was just something we would have to learn to live—and die—with, for many years to come.