Scoppe: The most dangerous place in South Carolina? Without changes, Statehouse could take the title | Comment

SC Statehouse occupies half of a four-block plaza in the middle of downtown Columbia. The Chamber and Senate office buildings are in the southern half, along with four other buildings. An underground car park acts as a passage between the Statehouse and the offices, avoiding the coldest days of winter.

Then, after the Chamber suspended its two-day organizational session on Wednesday morning and the representatives returned to the office building for committee meetings, I went down the escalator to the garage, passed the basement entrance to the Senate building and towards the entrance to the basement of the Blatt Building, where I saw members of the House lining up – and suddenly I realized what I was about to do.

I turned, turned the corner, went up the ramp, went out onto the sidewalk, back to the Capitol Complex, through the entrance to the ground floor, down the long corridor and entered the spacious staircase, where I took my wool coat to the ankle, covered over my arm and started to climb. In the middle of the second flight, I removed the wool sweater that went almost to my boots above the knee. Another flight of flight, I put my hand under the sweater and coat in my 9-pound bag and pulled out a clip so I could pin my hair around my neck. Five flights is easy, even if I haven’t been to my gym since March; still, I could feel the beads of sweat forming around my face when I reached the top.

But with several high-risk people in my small social group, what choice did I have? After what I just witnessed, it seemed unwise to enter an elevator with any random group of SC legislators.

With the governor’s mask mandate for state buildings and Columbia’s mandate for public places considered inapplicable within the House, President Jay Lucas “strongly encouraged” House members to wear masks on the floor of the House and in their building buildings. offices. Most did. Several did not. Some took off their masks when they sat at their tables, inches away from their tablemates. When I reviewed the photos I took inside the camera, I counted 30 legislators (out of 124) without masks or with masks adorning the chin.

On Tuesday, Republican and Democratic caucuses met over lunch to elect officers (the smaller Democratic caucus in a larger-than-normal room), engaging in one of the communal activities most likely to result in the transmission of COVID -19. That night, several accepted the open invitation to meet at a local bar.

Lucas made quick tests available before Tuesday’s session, which is a smart way to prevent an outbreak, but he also apparently gave some lawmakers permission to get rid of the masks. This is particularly dangerous, as there is a delay between exposure and infection, which means that people can become positive – and be the most contagious – hours after a negative test.

The president of the Education Chamber, Rita Allison, told me through her black mask that she got a negative result in her quick test. His tablemate, newcomer deputy Roger Nutt, said he had not been tested. He laughed – there was no doubt about it, because he wasn’t wearing a mask – and told Rep. Allison that if she caught COVID, she would know who infected her.

As I left the chamber, I heard a representative tell a reporter who had asked about his naked face that there is no evidence that the masks work.

Certainly, there is no proof that masks are 100% effective, because they are not. But there is a logic that says that placing a physical barrier between the mouth and the nose and other humans will reduce the amount of phlegm, saliva and microscopic droplets that you can send flying towards them when you cough, sneeze or speak. And there is substantial evidence that masks do this – including here in South Carolina, where COVID infections have declined in communities that have instituted mask mandates, while increasing in communities that have not. And there is a consensus among medical professionals and enough evidence to convince Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and DHEC and public health agencies worldwide to recommend that we combine masks with social distance, potentially to protect us from others, but mainly to protect others from us.

Which means that wearing a mask whenever we are around other people – unless we know for sure that they don’t care that we can be infected and can infect them – is a matter of simple human decency.

I don’t think Mr. Lucas has the authority to order members of the Chamber to wear masks in the chamber. But the House – which tells men that they must wear a jacket and tie – certainly has the authority to do so. And you need it when you change your rules in January. The Senate too.

This year, COVID-19 sent lawmakers running home in the middle of its annual session, derailing efforts to make long-awaited reforms to our public schools and define the fate of Santee Cooper and do anything beyond the bare minimum in anything. They returned to the State House for just a few hours at a time to vote on these matters. House and Senate leaders agreed to vote; there was no room for real debate, much less new topics.

If lawmakers behave as they did last week, when they return to their normal schedule in January, Statehouse will become South Carolina’s hottest hot spot, and the legislature will close on its own. And our state cannot allow that.

Cindi Ross Scoppe is an editorial writer for The Post and Courier. Contact her at [email protected] or follow her on Facebook or Twitter @cindiscoppe.