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I was an Army brat. At 8 years I dreaded the drills, because I already knew they were useless. The only place I ever lived as a child where they weren't done was "nowhereville" Arizona while my father was in Vietnam. I was (thankfully) too young to understand why Christmas came before he left that year. Just how serious was it my generation Z and millennial coworkers want to know. In 1963, before I was born, my father called my mother while he was stationed in Anchorage and said, "Take the kids and the car and get out of Anchorage now." She did. My mother was the strongest person I've ever known. I feel the dread coming back, but not because of the old reason, but because of the very old reason. If it's not H5N1 it'll be something else - maybe even something we thought we'd licked because time has a way of making history repeat. Tempus fugit, momento mori.