By Peter Rosengard, September 3, 2009
In July, my 13-year-old daughter Lily flew to Camp George, a URJ summer camp on a lake near Toronto. Swine flu was at its peak. Naturally I was a little concerned: “Did I just hear you cough?.. You sweating Lily?”
“Dad, Stop being paranoid!”
It was her first unaccompanied flight. We’d packed all the essentials: flashlight, 20 bikinis, iPod, a course of Tamiflu.
In T5 departure lounge, I drained my 12th espresso. One more and I’d also be flying to Toronto.
The next morning I read a headline: “American camps hit by swine flu. Campers in quarantine.”