Americans are lonely and loneliness is making them sick.
A Harvard Graduate School of Education survey of 950 people, including young adults, in October 2020 found that 36 percent felt “serious loneliness” defined as frequently feeling lonely over a several-week period. The study found that 61 percent of young adults surveyed experienced serious loneliness.
The study linked sustained loneliness to serious medical problems, including depression, anxiety and heart disease.
The Harvard study was conducted against the backdrop of COVID-19. But even with the pandemic loosening its hold on the nation and summer giving people more opportunities to get outside, the study is still alarming.
Halve the results and you still have numbers pointing to one in five American adults feeling seriously lonely and almost one in three young adults defining themselves as seriously lonely.
Why is loneliness casting a cloud over so many lives even with the pandemic waning in many places around the country?
My answer: the death of clubs.
I found not one, but two file cabinets in The Item story archives stuffed with folders filled with news briefs and stories about clubs and organizations proliferating in Lynn and surrounding communities.
Many, if not most of them, are gone and so are the opportunities the clubs offered for people to socialize.
Subtract the major organizations — Elks, Lions, Jaycees, and any number of religious-oriented organizations that enjoyed 20th century heydays — and you still have dozens of groups with all manner of names devoted to one objective: bringing people together.
How about the Couples Club of Nahant? This organization was active from the mid-1940s to the 1960s and a 1990 reunion attracted 60 former club members who fondly remembered watching old movies together and hosting beach parties.
The Daughters of Isabella organized a Lynn chapter 102 years ago — at a time when women were referred to in newspapers by their husband’s name. In a tribute to guaranteed inclusiveness, every one of the 20 founding members had a club title ranging from regent to custodian.
Order of the Skunk members also sported an array of titles, with a 1951 Daily Evening Item story listing Lynn residents serving as “vice grand stinker” and “rhythm skunk.” Grounded in irreverence, the group was devoted to the worthy mission of “sponsoring aid to cancer victims.”
Residents living on the Tower Hill stretch of Boston Street in Lynn and side streets formed the Edwards Corner Pals. Club activities included organizing a “sendoff gala” for neighborhood men entering military service in 1942.
Four Marblehead women — Ann Arata, Jody Howard, Peggy Lynch and Betsy Morris — helped organize The Eighth Day club devoted to empowering women through creative expression.
Reading about the group reminded me how my mother joined a similar 1970s club and found herself getting involved in politics. She ended up elected to the local City Council and serving stints as mayor and county commissioner.
Lest they be forgotten, Swampscott’s Fortnightly Club, the Fughawee Renegades of Saugus, Interfor Club of Lynn, Nahant’s Hightiders, Lynnfield Gathering and Master Chase’s Schoolboys’ Association all enjoyed their day in the sun and provided a place to meet and make friends in a time before televisions, computer and mobile devices took their place.
Maybe I am indicting modern technology too harshly. After all, Facebook and its cousins link billions of people together virtually and in positive ways.
Let’s all conduct a loneliness experiment: Turn off the tube, shove the laptop and iPhone into a drawer and tell me what you plan to do.
I’ll grab my guitar or a book or cajole my wife into playing chess. How about you and you and you — anyone want to start a club?