Only the Lonely

We are in an epidemic. No, not the opioid epidemic but a loneliness epidemic. Several recent studies have revealed that nearly half of Americans (46 percent) sometimes or always feel lonely. And the youngest adults among us (18-22 years) are the loneliest group of all.

Why are we so lonely?

There are many factors, but here are a few that I think are contributing to making us lonelier than ever.

The first thing is cell phones. Several years ago, my youngest son had a job interview in State College, and I tagged along to spend the afternoon walking the campus and enjoying the fall leaves while he went on the interview. Afterward, I met him on College Avenue, which separates the business district from the Penn State campus. A stone wall runs along the campus side. As we walked past the wall to our car, I noticed that there must have been 40 students sitting on the wall waiting for the university bus and every single one of them was either wearing headphones or was bent over engrossed in a cell phone. No one was talking. It’s no wonder then that another study released last month showed that 51 percent of young Americans are single or don’t have a romantic partner—more than any other time.

Another reason I believe is because of changing family life. I was one of four children, and I slept in a double bed with my sister until I left home to get married. Yeah, we often brawled over who was hogging the covers, but we weren’t lonely! Today, families are having fewer children, and the ones that do believe each child must have their own room. Also, I heard someone give a talk on loneliness recently, and he observed how today it is the norm for people to grow up and move away from their family. He said that throughout history, people tended to settle around their family because it provided support and security, only leaving for dire circumstances such as war or poverty. It’s only been during the last few decades that people willingly move away from the people who know them, love them and care about them to live where no one knows them, loves them or cares about them. And then we wonder why we’re lonely!

I’m sure there are other reasons for the loneliness epidemic from the decline in religious affiliations to our fractured culture, but in the interest of space, here is my final reason. We are too busy to connect with others. In 2000, Robert D. Putnam wrote the book Bowling Alone, which detailed the collapse of our communities. The title derives from the fact that during the first-half of the last century, most people belonged to a bowling league, and now, no one does. But it’s not just bowling; all types of social groups have suffered too as well as civic organizations. Even the frequency of family dinners has declined tremendously. And Putnam gives one startling trend from his research to illustrate how our frenzied lives are isolating us. He observed that for every ten minutes a person commutes, all forms of their social interaction are reduced by 10 percent.

It’s hard to buck trends, but maybe if we become miserable enough in our loneliness, we will make some changes and, once again, begin to reach out to others. If you are looking to connect, put down the phone, volunteer, join a church or synagogue, host a family dinner, start a book club or maybe even dig out your bowling shoes and hit the lanes. 

This article originally appeared in the May 2019 issue of Northern Connection magazine. 

Depositing Regularly 

Last month I wrote about wisely investing your trust. Not to belabor the financial metaphor, but this month I want to discuss something related to investing—that is the need for making regular deposits. In November, the Penn State sexual abuse scandal blasted onto the stage, unfolding like a Shakespearean tragedy. I must qualify myself as biased. I didn’t attend Penn State but my husband, son-in-law, nephew, and numerous friends and relatives have. Currently, my youngest son is a sophomore there. During the last 32 years, I’ve visited State College numerous times and have had nothing but wonderful times there with the Penn Staters I have met. It truly has been Happy Valley for me.

While the “Penn State family” has been horrified by the child abuse that allegedly took place there, many were also saddened that Joe Paterno, who passed away on January 22, was consequently fired. During the holidays, the scandal naturally was a hot topic. A clear divide emerged about the justification for firing Paterno. Those in the “Penn State family” most frequently offered the opinion that if Joe knew something and didn’t do it, he should have been fired, but they just couldn’t imagine him not doing the right thing. Those who were not Penn States were less inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Why is that?

I think the Penn Staters’ view goes beyond school loyalty—to something important--that if we were wise, we would all do. And that is to make regular deposits into your integrity account. The truth will either vindicate or indict Paterno. However, for those of us who are Penn Staters, we’ve studied Paterno, knew his deeds and have admired him not only for his success on the field but also for his integrity. He regularly made significant deposits into his integrity account. Joe Posnanski, a journalist with Sports Illustrated, moved to State College last fall to objectively study Paterno for a book he is writing about him. Posnanski wrote this blog in November that helps to explain the feelings of Penn Staters:

I have thought about Joe Paterno, his strengths, his flaws, his triumphs, his failures, his core, pretty much nonstop for months now. I have talked to hundreds of people about him in all walks of life. I have read 25 or 30 books about him, countless articles. I’m not saying I know Joe Paterno. I’m saying I know a whole lot about him. And what I know is complicated. But, beyond complications — and I really believe this with all my heart — there’s this, and this is exclusively my opinion: Joe Paterno has lived a profoundly decent life. 

He has improved the lives of countless people. I know — I’ve talked to hundreds of them. Almost every day I walk by the library that he and his wife, Sue, built. I walk by the religious center that tries to bring people together, and his name is on the list of major donors. I hear the stories, the countless stories, of the kindnesses that came naturally to him, of the way he stuck with people in their worst moments, of the belief he had that everybody could do a little bit better — as a football player, as a student, as a human being. I’m not going to tell you these stories now, because you can’t hear them. Nobody can hear them in the howling.

Clearly, Paterno has made countless deposits into his integrity account. What about you and me? Do we have a healthy integrity account? If someone were to accuse you of a misdeed, would you have enough good will in reserve to preserve your reputation and provoke people to say, “They would never do that!” I hope I do.

I tried to recall if there had ever been a time when I was accused of something and what had happened. While this may seem inconsequential to you, to me it was important—it must have been; this interlude happened more than 30 years ago.

During the last week of my senior year of high school at Saint Benedict Academy in 1978, we girls were suffering with spring fever and severe senioritis. Undoubtedly, this led to the students becoming a bit rowdy as we neared graduation. One afternoon during the change of classes, things got very loud as only a hallway packed with 250 teenage girls could get. Someone was wailing, and our principal, Sr. Kathleen, thought I was the one responsible. “Janice,” she scolded, “settle down and stop screaming.” Not one to be assertive, I uncharacteristically defended myself. “It wasn’t me, Sister,” I said. “I wasn’t screaming.” (Truly, I wasn’t.) She looked dubiously at me while I headed off to class.

What happened next left a deep impression on me. Later that afternoon, as I was sitting at my lunch table, Sister Kathleen came to me. “I want to apologize for reprimanding you before,” she said. “If you say, you weren’t screaming, I believe you.”

I took Trigonomety and Calculus in senior year, and if pressed today, I could not remember how to solve a Trig problem for the life of me, but her trusting my integrity I remember. My admiration of her for having the humility and forthrightness to come to me not only greatly increased but this experience also taught me the value of regularly making deposits into your integrity account.


Six months ago, would you have dreamed Paterno would die under these circumstances? Who knows what you or I may some day face? Build up your integrity account now with good deeds and exemplary behavior; you never know when there may be a run on your bank.

Here's to Heroes

Did you see the recent story about the NYC subway slasher who went on a violent spree killing several people  He set out to create more carnage, but he ran into Joe Lozito, a regular commuter from Philly.  When the slasher threatened him, Lozito knew he would most likely die if he didn't do something.  Drawing on the moves he'd seen while watching mixed martial arts matches, Lozito fought back, saving his life and possibly the lives of others on the train.  Afterward, Lozito was very humble, brushing off any credit.

In 1996, a Penn State University student opened fire on her fellow classmates, killing one and wounding another.  As she stopped to reload, student Brendon Malovrh ran over and tackled her.  During the struggle, she pulled a knife on Malovrh, but she inadvertently slashed her own leg.  Malovrh used his belt as a tourniquet to save her life.  I remember watching Malovrh while reporters interviewed him.  He was very low-key, humble and seemed to shrink from the attention.

In this day when so many are clamoring for attention (i.e. Lady Gaga), it's refreshing and heartwarming to know that humble heroes still exist. 

Heroes have always been a staple of literature; readers can't resist them.  Perhaps we love them so much because they appeal to our higher nature.  We look upon them and hope that in the same circumstances we would perform as admirably. 

One of my favorite fictional heroes is Jamie Fraser from Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series.  Fraser is honorable, brave, and self-sacrificing.

Who are some of your favorite fiction heroes?  What makes them stand out in your mind?