The Atlanta Journal-Constitution remains the premier source for Ebola-related news affecting metro Atlanta. Atlanta has emerged as a leader in the care of Ebola patients in the United States. It is also home to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, one of five U.S. airports receiving travelers from West Africa.
Teddy Bull is a wizened veteran of the Atlanta-based Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. And he’s only 6 years old.
When his mother told him she would be away on Christmas, fighting Ebola in West Africa, the first-grader put on a brave face. After all, this was his mother’s second deployment there. She had assured him that she works in communications and doesn’t have direct contact with infected people.
So Teddy’s stiff upper lip was firmly in place when she handed him over to his grandparents about a week ago. She was the one all misty-eyed, getting in three or four extra hugs before letting go.
“He misses me and I miss him,” said Nicole Hawk, 31, a single mom who is heading up the CDC’s Health Promotion Team in Sierra Leone. “But he’s pretty matter-of-fact.”
This is a tough time for the families of 170 CDC staffers who remain in West Africa during the holidays. That’s a lot of empty chairs at family dinners and presents that will have to wait. At a time when people express thanks for the ones they love, these families are worried about one far away, taking care of the world’s business.
Some of those left behind were less stoic than Teddy.
‘Why you?’
Ryan Lash, a 33-year-old mapping scientist who lives in Virginia-Highland, recalled the upset that erupted when he told his mother he’d be in Sierra Leone.
“Why you?” she told him. “What do they need you for? You make maps.”
Mom tried several times to change his mind.
“It’s fair to say she was a little angry that she wasn’t able to convince me,” he said.
Lash has been away for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. His wife, CDC microbiologist Johanna Salzer, is also in Sierra Leone, working in a lab that tests blood samples for Ebola. This is the couple’s first Christmas since getting married. But she ended up serving in another part of the country, so they couldn’t spend Christmas day together.
“It’s not easy being away from family during the holidays,” said Lash, who’s been spending his days mapping the hot spots of the deadly disease. The information is a key decision-making tool as officials determine where to dispatch workers and resources. “I’m definitely overdue for some turkey and stuffing.”
‘A moral obligation’
Stateside, it’s easy to forget that Ebola is still a global threat. After months of anxiety, hasty preparations at hospitals and all kinds of concern over airport screenings, the outbreak has largely faded from the American consciousness. No hospital here has an infected patient.
(Nevertheless, a few CDC workers declined to participate in this article, concerned that their children could face repercussions at school and among their friends.)
But inside the CDC complex off Clifton Road, the sense of urgency is undiminished. Staffers continue to rotate in and out of West African countries plagued by an epidemic that has raged for months and claimed over 7,000 lives.
CDC workers on the homefront sent two tons of gifts, candy and treats to their brethren in West Africa.
CDC chief Thomas Frieden recently returned from a visit to West Africa, and said he saw scenes that were both inspiring and sobering. In Liberia, the outbreak has slowed dramatically, due in large part to increased access to Ebola treatment centers, safe burials and greater community engagement. But the number of cases continues to surge in Sierra Leone, and a troubling outbreak has occurred in Guinea’s capital city.
The CDC remains a major player in the world’s response. CDC staffers run labs for Ebola testing, track cases and advise hospitals and airports on safe practices. This work, they say, is why they chose a career in public health.
“I feel a moral obligation to help. This is a public health emergency on a global scale,” said Susan Goldstein, a CDC epidemiologist who lives in Druid Hills.
Holiday by Skype
Goldstein and her 10-year-old daughter, Leah, are Jewish. They spent the eight nights of Hanukkah apart. Goldstein is part of a CDC team helping Sierra Leone set up a field trial of a newly developed Ebola vaccine, finding appropriate sites and populations.
“We’re thinking about things like how to keep the vaccine cold until it gets into a person’s arm,” said Goldstein, who’s worked for the CDC for more than 20 years.
Leah, a fourth-grader, is afraid for her mother. She refused to watch her mother pack up for the trip. She didn’t want to see all the gloves and masks and things. It just made her more nervous.
Most of the CDC workers volunteered to be there at this time. Goldstein, a single mother, chose this holiday period to go, knowing that Leah would be off from school and could travel to New York to stay with her grandmother. On the first and last nights of Hanukkah, she used Skype to watch Leah open her presents.
She also gave Leah a New York shopping spree.
Similarly, Nicole Hawk took pains to create a host of Christmas moments for Teddy before she deployed in late December.
Mother and son made a gingerbread house and decorated their Christmas tree. They visited the holiday lights at the Atlanta Botanical Garden and the Pink Pig ride at Lenox Square mall. They acted out the family’s Dutch traditions of Sinterklaas, with Teddy leaving one of his blue sneakers outside his room overnight, and his mother filling it with chocolate coins and treats.
“We hit the holidays pretty hard,” Hawk recalled. “He’s been celebrating all over December.”
‘The hardest work’
Once in West Africa, CDC staffers stay busy. It keeps thoughts of home at bay. And given the threat they’re up against, there’s little choice.
“This is the hardest work I’ve ever done. I’ve never been exposed to so many people dying and suffering — and the poverty,” Hawk said.
Her communications team crafts messages about how to avoid Ebola for local radio, newspaper and other media. There’s a lot of illiteracy among the generally poor population in Sierra Leone, so radio and word-of-mouth are especially important.
Outside Hawk’s hotel in Freetown are billboards and signs instructing people to not touch those who are sick and to get them help as fast as possible. There are Ebola songs on the radio and some people wear T-shirts saying “Ebola is Real,” a reaction to some people’s belief that the illness was a malevolent spiritual force.
Getting the buy-in of community and spiritual leaders has been key. They helped establish trust and opened up communication with whole swaths of the population.
CDC staffers don’t directly treat Ebola patients. But they speak with the health workers, ambulance drivers and nurses who do. They see the impact of their own work.
Hawk recalled a woman speaking about how her sister had contracted Ebola and survived, because she got to care quickly. That, Hawk said, is messaging making a difference.
80-hour weeks
Lash, the map maker, has found his skills to be especially valuable. Not many in Sierra Leone can do it, and tracking the number of cases and locations is key to spotting outbreaks and containing them.
When he first arrived, he was working 80-hour weeks, but he just had to slow down. Recently, he’s been monitoring a surge in cases in the western part of the country.
For people in West Africa, fear is a constant. Lash sees families who won’t let their kids play outside. He sees workers at the Ministry of Health looking down a list of new cases, checking for friends or relatives.
“I’ve never been exposed to this before,” he said.
The CDC workers quickly absorb the lessons of living in a hot zone. They learn not to shake hands with anyone, as that carries the risk of transmitting the disease. Local customs now include placing a hand over your heart and bowing, or touching elbows.
They’ve become accustomed to having their temperature checked before entering buildings. They’re used to the penetrating stench of the chlorine hand-washing stations, which are ubiquitous, and the way the solution leaves your hands dried and cracked. (They’ve also learned not to touch their clothes when their hands are wet with the stuff.)
The Santa Bunny
The lead-up to Christmas had a subdued quality. Christians are a minority in Sierra Leone, which is predominantly Muslim. The government banned any public celebrations and gatherings, concerned they could spur further transmission of the disease. So Christmas largely moved indoors.
For the CDC workers in Freetown, Christmas Day broke a little lonely. They talked about how strange it felt, being away from loved ones. The boxes of gifts and treats arrived from the CDC folks back home, and several of the workers decided to have a big lunch on the beach.
In the lobby of the hotel, there was a Christmas tree and one of those 5-foot-tall mechanical Santas that does a little dance. The hotel staff wore Santa hats and sang carols.
Lash and his wife texted each other Christmas greetings and then got back to work.
Hawk put up a mini-tree in her room along with a stuffed rabbit dressed up as Santa. She called Teddy about 9 p.m. his time.
“He said immediately that he missed me and loved me,” she said. “That meant a lot to me.”
Her family sent some video of Teddy playing with his new Batman robot.
In the midst of longing for home, the CDC workers say their time in Africa has given them a keener appreciation for all the comforts they enjoy in metro Atlanta, which most West Africans will never experience.
Most mornings, Hawk says she goes for a jog along the beach. It clears her head and prepares her for the day. She always seems to see some kids playing. She watches them create fun out of what little they have. They smile and wave to her.
She thinks about why she came there.
Then she thinks about Teddy.
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