General sorry for ‘miscommunication’ over vaccine shipments
THE Army general in charge of getting COVID-19 vaccines across the United States apologised yesterday for “miscommunication” with states over the number of doses to be delivered in the early stages of distribution.
“I failed. I’m adjusting. I am fixing and we will move forward from there,” General Gustave Perna told reporters in a telephone briefing.
Perna’s remarks came a day after a second vaccine was added in the fight against COVID-19, which has killed more than 312,000 people in the US. Governors in more than a dozen states have said the federal government has told them that next week’s shipment of the Pfizer-biontech vaccine will be less than originally projected.
Perna acknowledged the criticism and accepted blame.
“I want to take personal responsibility for the miscommunication,” he said. “I know that’s not done much these days. But I am responsible . ... This is a Herculean effort and we are not perfect.”
The general said he made mistakes by citing numbers of doses that he believed would be ready.
“I am the one who approved forecast sheets. I’m the one who approved allocations,” Perna said. “There is no problem with the process. There is no problem with the Pfizer vaccine. There is no problem with the Moderna vaccine.”
Perna said the Government now is on track to get approximately 20 million doses to states by the first week of January, a combination of the newly approved Moderna vaccine and the Pfizer-biontech vaccine.
Perna said 2.9 million Pfizerbiontech doses have been delivered to states so far.
In Michigan, where the Pfizer vaccine is produced, Democratic Governor Gretchen Whitmer on Friday accused the White House of “slow-walking the process”.
“We have Michigan hospitals and nursing homes ready to administer this vaccine,” she said.
FLance Neita is a public relations and communications specialist. Send comments to the Jamaica Observer or lanceneita@hotmail.com. ive days to go and the most wonderful time of the year is on our doorstep. The Christmas story, as told in Luke 2, is a thrilling narrative of those momentous events that took place leading up and around the birth of Jesus Christ in Bethlehem. True, the dates may not be historically factual, but Christians accept the gospel accounts as spiritual or theological documents inspired by God and based on proven events.
The secular forces have already lined up to consume the last cent out of the holiday. That won’t be too difficult. There are not many of those left. The advertisements are overwhelming, the giveaways enticing, but for so many of us this is going to be a “bruk pocket” Christmas.
The novel coronavirus pandemic and the stormy weather have each taken toll and, although the shoppers are out in numbers and the vendors are fighting for more hours and more space, many of the once-potential buyers have lost jobs and had their earnings ravaged.
It’s not going to be Christmas as usual, but let us remember that nothing can replace the true reason for the season, the beauty of the nativity scene, the time-honoured Christmas carols, the joy on the faces of the children, sharing gifts, family reunions, and the call for worship as we fall on our knees and thank God for the coming of Christ into our world.
Take time out to restructure the drama that traces the story dating back to the predictions of His birth found in the Bible. Walk step by step through that fascinating story with its maze of mysteries, the beauty of holiness, an angelic choir, shepherds abiding, the stars in the bright sky, and the trickery of the infamous Herod, who, if he had his way, would have brought the story to an abrupt end.
Cast your imagination 2,000 years back in time and think of the dramatic events leading up to that birth that was to take place in the most unlikely setting in the world.
Five days to go as the angels wait in joyful anticipation for that epochal moment planned eons before the ‘beginning’.
Five days to go and things are moving into place. On Earth, Caesar had issued his decree months earlier that a census should be taken of the entire Roman domain. This had triggered a mass stirring of Jews throughout their diaspora as they journeyed to their ancestral homes to be registered and made accountable in numbers to the Roman Empire.
Caesar had exercised his powers not knowing that he had been destined by the God of Israel, and not on his own steam, to order the mother and father of the Christ, the Messiah, into Bethlehem to fulfil the age-old prophecies of Micah. “But thou, Bethlehem, though thou be little, yet out of thee shall come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel…” (Micah 5:2)
Five days to go, and Mary and Joseph are drawing nearer, step by step, to fulfil their most important assignment in the heavenly scheme of things.
Five days to go and other travellers are hurrying on to find their lama; for example, the three kings from the Orient who are following a star to where they know not, but feeling compelled to tie the mystical strands of history and astrology together that would reveal the birthplace of the Lord.
Elsewhere a shepherd is planning his next move to find a lush pasture on a nearby hillside that would fatten his sheep to meet the expected demand from the influx of pilgrims descending on nearby Bethlehem in response to the proclamation “that all the world should be taxed”.
A series of seemingly unrelated activities here on Earth, with the dots still unconnected, but in another place it was all a part of the vast and beautiful design that was setting the stage. For those final five days there must was excitement as day after day, night after night, the heavenly overture was building up to its crescendo. And then came the night before Christmas.
The wonder of that first Christmas Eve unfolds and the hosts of heaven were on their toes as they eagerly awaited what was going to be the world’s most significant happening since the act of creation. There was subdued excitement along the great corridors of the universe as the angels took up their places for the well-ordered symmetry of events that had been planned ever since the ages began. The time had come to make that supreme gift to mankind when God would become flesh and the most important delivery of a baby in the history of humankind would take place.
The choir was tiptoeing into the stalls and whispering to each other in hushed tones, as the Father had ordered complete quiet for the final countdown. Gabriel, the choirmaster, hushed the gathering. There was a rustling of feet and gowns as Moses himself was escorted to his front row seat. Across the aisle was the Patriarch Abraham and his wife Sarah looking as comfortable with destiny as he had been 4,000 years before.
The well-known names from the Old Testament were gathering to witness this most spectacular event. The prophet Isaiah was comparing notes with Micah and nodding in agreement with the latter’s accurate pin-pointing of the exact date and time. Elijah leaned across to Moses to remind him of their appointment, some 30 years hence — the transfiguration.
Arcott, Calder, Hartley, Donovan, Jean, Cecile and Marcia took their places at the four corners of the globe as they waited for the order to draw the curtains.
Suddenly a door opened and the archangel came out from the Throne Room to stride down the passageway lined with thousands of angels who granted proper obeisance to the majestic figure headed towards earth to announce the birth.
Inside the room he had gone through the final checklist with the Father.
Yes, the parents to be were now in Bethlehem.
Yes, they had found rest at the back of an inn.
Yes, the shepherds were out on the hillside.
Yes, the star was in place.
And the wise men, still arguing and debating each other on points of astronomy and mathematics, had managed to get lost, finding themselves in Jerusalem. Ah, this was going to be a night! Meanwhile, Bethlehem had taken on a festive air. The streets were crowded with shoppers seeking souvenirs. It was Grand Market time, with hawkers peddling, customers bargaining and feasting, with music and dancing at every street corner.
No one had time to notice the nondescript couple who moved anxiously from building to building trying to find a haven for the pregnant girl astride the donkey.
“No room in the inn”, “sorry we’re full”, “try elsewhere”, “booked out”, were the responses as the innkeepers sent the haggard pair away.
One person finally took pity and led them to a little stable: “It’s not much, you can rest on the hay, a little water, and that’s all I have, take it or leave it, Sir.”
In heaven, that was the signal, the finger-snapping moment for God to come into the world, not as a spirit, but as a humble, frail, mortal man in flesh. And, as the baby made his first cry, a most marvellous thing happened on a hillside several miles away. The mightiest of archangels presented himself in a flash of light to a frightened set of shepherds. He made the formal announcement, and then the rustics, spellbound, saw the curtains of the sky roll back to the four corners of the globe as a host of angels filled the heavens singing that first Christmas carol, “Glory to God in the highest, and on Earth, peace and goodwill to all men.”
It made music around the world, but for those magic moments only the shepherds heard it, and only the shepherds saw the angels. Not the merrymakers, not the shoppers, not the dancers, not the innkeepers, not the noise-makers.
But in the stable behind the inn, the baby suddenly stopped crying, and His eyes opened, His lips pursed into a smile, and His mother knew that He was listening.
The heavenly choir took their exit. The curtains were restored. The shepherds wept. They were considered the lowest caste in the society of that time, yet God had chosen them for one of the greatest honours in the whole of human history.