Last week was my birthday week. My friend, Russell Ford, born in 1942 just a few days before I was, and I have celebrated decadal birthdays together — 40th, 50th, 60th and 70th. We thought we’d creep up on the 80th with a practice run at M.Crow in Lostine last Sunday, so a few friends gathered at that great, new-old venue for pizza and beer. A good way to start a birthday week.

I’m counting Saturday the 9th, when the side channel at the Nez Perce Wallowa Homeland was dedicated, as the beginning of the great eight-day birthday week. Working with Nez Perce Fisheries, the Homeland has built small channels off the main stem of the Wallowa River as places of refuge for migrating fish. This remedial work makes a small dent in the decades-long scouring of the riverbed brought on by straightening of the river in the 1940s and ‘50s to make more land for crops and pasture. Observers say birds and critters started using the new river feature before the backhoes left, and look for marshlands of tule and grasses created when spring floods rush over the side channels.

The physical work is important, but so too is the spiritual work, the joining together of tribal offices and people with local people on ancient lands, celebrating with drums, songs and a communal salmon feed. In cloudy times, that Saturday was a bright event.

At work in the Josephy Library last week, we moved books around to make room for three major donations of books about Indians and the Inland Northwest. One seasoned, visiting librarian remarked on the quality and unique nature of the books and papers we have. Our goal in 2022 is to make most of these materials available through interlibrary loans.

On Thursday, my actual birthday day, granddaughter Oriana showed up from Portland to wish me a happy day. We ate Mexican food and talked about her new life at a construction company in Portland, and her new love of fishing. She bought waders from Rob Lamb and caught a couple of fish with a fly rod — no steelhead, though. She’ll go back to make crabbing trips to the coast and fly fish nearby rivers.

On Friday, according to the Oregon Health Authority, Wallowa County had just two new COVID cases. I don’t think there was a double-digit day the entire week, after a couple of scary big weeks. So maybe things are, in fact, slowing here, as they are in much of the country.

As if to answer those questions, on Saturday morning, I opened the N.Y. Times online, and found my favorite COVID columnist, Zeynep Tufekci, with a piece called “The unvaccinated may not be who you think.” (Her smiling face and her name — Zeynep was always a favorite Turkish name, and Tufekci means “gunsmith” in the language I loved and spoke for over four years a long time ago — was another birthday gift.)

Like most of us loudly supporting vaccinations and wearing masks, I’ve focused my thinking on the anti-vaxxers. Tufekci, who teaches at the University of North Carolina, using information from the scant research being done on the subject, focused on the “vaccine hesitant” rather than the antis, and gave reasons for hope in the national and local struggle against COVID.

First, the fear of needles. A large number of the hesitant have great fear of all injections. Some research — and a recent study in England — suggest that up to 25% of us have an immense fear of needles, any needles.

Second, the most-vaccinated demographic in the country is people over 65. Makes sense in our county, with its older population, where most over 65 get vaccinated. Wallowa County’s adult rate of 65% is pretty good, significantly better than neighbors in nearby counties and in Idaho.

Third, the best predictor of being vaccinated is having health insurance — and direct contact with health care providers. Highly unvaccinated places have low scores on both. The age of our local population — many on Medicare — and our vigorous, local health care system account for our 65% rate.

Fourth, mandates and personal contact with the health care system are persuasive with high numbers of the vaccine hesitant.

With gradual ongoing vaccinations, immunity by sickness, upcoming mandates, the extension of vaccinations to children and the cessation of the tourist season, I’m optimistic. I liked the quieter Joseph Main Street this weekend, with fewer Florida, Texas, South Carolina and Idaho license plates. (Has anyone correlated local COVID numbers with visitor counts?)

So even if locals refuse to wear masks — one storekeeper not wearing a mask bragged about his vaccination — I am beginning to think we’ll be all right. Thanks to Medicare, our great local health care system and my many vaccinated friends.

A good eight-day birthday week!