Irving Bennett:
We were having a newsroom meeting about how to deal with the coverage and my then editor Brenda Strong said “it’s like a coordinated attack. It’s like this virus has blitzkrieged every single place people live.” And that’s exactly what it was like. We were getting the same news reports that everyone else was seeing and it was astounding. It was literally everywhere. The only place it seemed not to be was the science stations of Antarctica. New Zealand actually stopped flights down to the South Pole to keep it from getting there.
The Haden’s virus went from not even existing to becoming the major global health crisis of the 21st Century in under two weeks. Nothing like that sort of epidemic spread had ever happened before in the history of the world. It was like viruses declared war on humans and were planning to wipe us out before we could mount a counteroffensive.
Thomas Stevenson:
Before we learned of the International Epidemiologist Conference’s winter meeting, we very seriously considered whether this was in fact an attack on the United States by a hostile party, either a nation state or a terrorist group. The problem was none of our chatter had indicated that something like this was in the offing, and this is, to be blunt, one of the things we had tuned ourselves to be looking for. It seemed unlikely to us that something of this scale could have been planned without our hearing of it. The enemies of the United States have a tendency to try to pump themselves up before an attempted attack. We didn’t pick up any gloating transmissions before Haden’s got onto our radar.
Even if Haden’s had been designed to attack the US, it was a very poor instrument for the task. We were hard hit by Haden’s first wave but we and most other western and industrialized countries immediately coordinated our responses and locked down further immediate spread of the disease. It was the places without the ability to effect a coordinated response where the disease really took a bite, both immediately and with the later stages.
This is why, on a personal note, I think biological warfare ultimately never caught on. Attempting to use a biological agent against your enemy while avoiding its effects on you is like trying to use a grenade by holding onto it and hoping all the shrapnel flies in the direction of the person you want to kill. You have to be stupid or suicidal to use biological weapons. Whoever invented Haden’s—if it was invented—was probably both.
Benjamin Moldanado:
Two weeks after Super Bowl Sunday we had a billion people infected worldwide, including fifty million in the United States—roughly one in seven people in both cases. By the end of four weeks it was two billion and eighty million. By the end of the year, 2.75 billion worldwide, ninety-five million in the US. One in three people across the planet got sick. 400 million died—one in every eighteen, just about.
Natasha Lawrence:
The irony today, if you want to call it that, is that people have almost forgotten just how genuinely terrifying that first stage of Haden’s was. Almost four million people died in the US alone, mostly in those first couple of months. That’s like wiping out the entire city of Los Angeles. In an average year, only about two and a half million people die in the US, total. We were barely equipped to deal with all the deaths, simply from the point of infrastructure.
Outside the US and industrialized nations the death toll was even higher as a percentage, and their ability to deal with the dead much lower. And that caused a huge number of problems in terms of secondary waves of disease, infection, and general political and social instability. As bad as it got for us, much of the planet had it much, much worse. There are places on the globe that still haven’t entirely recovered, either in population or in terms of social structures.
Irving Bennett:
Here’s an interesting fact that I learned from one of the anniversary stories coming up—it was only last year that the global population passed what it was when Haden’s first struck. They used to think we’d be at something over eight and a half billion people by now. We’re a billion and a quarter people short. That’s not just because Haden’s killed 400 million people. It’s that many of those 400 million were of childbearing age, and that in the aftermath of the disease, particularly in the developing world, a whole bunch more who would have been parents died in the messes that came after. There aren’t that many things that have ever put that much of a divot into humanity’s growth curve. The only other thing I can think of that most other people know about is the Black Death. That’s pretty impressive company, if “impressive” is the right word to use here.
And even the Black Death usually only attacked each of its victims once.
Monique Davis:
After the first several days of the Super Bowl flu we started getting some of the same patients back into the ER, only this time suffering from symptoms that resembled meningitis. After the first few, those of us on staff started looking at each other like, you have got to be kidding me. There was no way it could be coincidence that the same people who had been coming in for the flu were coming back with meningitis-like symptoms. The patients were different races, sexes, economic classes—the only thing they had in common was that they had the Super Bowl flu first.
We started checking around at the other ERs to see if they had the same thing happening, and they did. Patients were coming back with what looked like meningitis. A lot fewer of them than in the first round. Maybe one in four or five. But it was definitely a second stage of some sort. Now, it’s possible for meningitis to be diagnosed as a flu. They share some initial symptoms. But for the same virus to exhibit flu-like symptoms, recede in most patients and then return like meningitis in a select few, that was new. And really sort of frightening.
Benjamin Moldanado:
One of the things that researchers don’t want to admit, because it sounds more than a little bit sociopathic, is how interesting the Haden’s virus was and what things we were hypothesizing in order to explain how it was doing what it was doing. With the meningitis-like symptoms we were confronted with the idea that a virus would attack a body, have the body’s immune response beat it back to greater or lesser extent and then as a result wholly reconfigure the way it was attacking the body—but only in a small number of the infected.
Some of the early hypotheses included reactions to blood type or specific antibodies, a signal dependent on total viral load, or a response to specific environmental inputs, like temperature or air quality or even wireless signal. The last of those is an example of how just because it’s a hypothesis doesn’t mean it’s good, or useful. The point was that we were looking for some reason for the virus to apparently mutate, and that led us to be occasionally wildly imaginative in our speculation. It was the most intriguing puzzle that most of us had worked with, and we’re talking about a room full of people whose job it is to work on genetic material and other natural puzzles every day. It was fun—or as fun as anything could be up to the point when you remembered people were out there dying from the thing, and you were supposed to be putting a stop to that.
Our problem was that none of our hypotheses fit the data. There was no obvious single environmental or physical factor we could find that would precipitate the change we saw in the virus. At least not in the short term. This was a problem because everyone wanted to know what they could do to counteract or at least avoid the second phase of the virus attack. And we had nothing to tell them. The only way you’d know whether or not you’d get the second phase of the attack was the headache, the stiff neck, and the other symptoms. You got it or you didn’t.