By Sherman R. Fredrick

Battle Born Media

It’s pretty clear now, I am sorry to say, that this COVID-19 pandemic is a long way from running its course. The virus spreads quickly and kills despite the best cautions. It did not fade away during the summer and, experts say, there’s a second wave yet to come.

I’m holed up in Albuquerque at this moment where a sad example of this hit the newspaper this week. It’s a story worth retelling, especially for those in rural Nevada who might feel protected by the state’s glorious isolation.

Bob Warren and his wife Barbara adhered to the coronavirus rules because, well, they were old (she 84, he 77). They lived in Los Lunas and rarely left the house. Others shopped for them and disinfected the food boxes and containers before bringing them in the house.

Many do this and feel safe. But then Bob required a heart cathe
terization. It had to be done. He tested negative for COVID-19 and was cleared to go to Albuquerque for the procedure.

He was in and out quickly and back home. The procedure a success.

Then days later he took ill. He had the virus.

The family called the heart facility immediately and, to their horror, found out only then that four workers there had been infected, including Bob’s doctor, who was currently fighting for his life in ICU.

Bob was subsequently hospitalized for the virus. Then Barbara, too. Unbeknownst to Bob, Barbara lay in a bed on the floor below him. She died first. Bob died two days later.

As you can imagine, there’s much finger pointing especially directed at the hospital for not notifying patients of the potential infection. Had Bob known he was exposed, he may have been able to take precautions earlier and not infect Barbara.

Who knows. The bottom line is the disease spread like wildfire from doctor to patient to patient’s wife. From a big city to a rural city.

We’re still in the middle of this gawdawful pandemic. Do not let your guard down.


This is an eerie note from a Las Vegas friend who had to go to the hospital there after a diabetic mistake. I pass it along because it is worth remembering the heroes in this Age of Coronavirus.

“Your love and prayers brought me home from the hospital last night after an ordeal that logically should not have. So many first hand nursing accounts of young dead COVID patients in the ICU hall next door was sobering to say the very least. I was in bad shape but my mountains were rolling hills in comparison to the desperation only 300 feet away I could occasionally hear when those sealed double doors opened. Some called it ‘the tomb’ while others called codes on the dead and dying. There are indeed heroes inside those walls whose dedication to serve seemingly outpaces their own need to survive. Wear a mask. Keep your distance. Keep hope alive.”


— May we live long enough, and free enough, to be concerning to our children.

— I saw a car in Reno being driven by a sheep in a bathing suit. It was a lambikini.

— “Dammit I’m mad” spelled backwards is still “Dammit I’m mad.”

— Remember Darth Vader’s wife, Ella? So much more uplifting than Darth.

— If I had a nickel for every pun, I’d have a punpernickel.

Ugh, that was bad, even by my low standards. No, no, don’t bother getting up, I’ll let myself out. Until next week, please be safe, be kind to one another and and as best you can, avoid soreheads. Life is always better that way.

Sherman R. Frederick is the founder of Battle Born Media, publisher of intensely local community newspapers in Nevada and Northern California. You may drop him a line at