CBS Sunday Morning,

Our CBS Sunday morning podcast is sponsored by Edward Jones. College tours with your oldest daughter. Updating the kitchen to the appropriate decade.

Retiring on the coast. Life is full of moments that matter, and Edward Jones helps you make the most of them. That's why every Edward Jones financial advisor works with you to build personalized strategies for now and down the road. So when your next moment arrives, big or small, you're ready for it. Life is for living.

Let's partner for all of it. Learn more at edwardjones.com. Good morning. I'm Jane Pauley and this is Sunday morning.

Today is Easter Sunday and roughly the midpoint of Passover, celebrated by the faithful this year as never before. We'll be hearing first things first about the coronavirus pandemic and the economic fallout from our Dr. John Lapook and money correspondent, Jill Schlesinger. And then it's on to a consideration of leadership in a time of crisis from Ted Koppel in our cover story. In times of crisis, leaders emerge in the most unexpected places, demonstrating the most unexpected qualities. I think the strange thing about leadership is leadership begins in humility. The minute you think that you have nothing to learn, you're lost. The Jesuit president of Fordham University, the CEO of an enormous healthcare system and the retired four-star general who ran special operations forces around the world, reflect on the nature of leadership. Coming up this Sunday morning. With Broadway theaters dark for the duration, veteran actor Nathan Lane is glad to have a television premiere to look forward to, as he'll be telling Martha Teichner.

The people have come to see Starina. Albert Goldman, the drag queen, pseudo-less, the slave, Max Bialystock, the Broadway producer, all characters Nathan Lane played for laughs. You know, I've been an actor for 45 years. I'm glad you were entertained and laughing, but you know, I was acting then too. I'm not really Max Bialystock. You're not? No. Nathan Lane, as you've never seen him, later on Sunday morning. Remember the good old days when we could actually shake hands?

Mo Rocca certainly does. Good night, John. It's a ritual we take for granted. I always hated a flabby handshake myself.

And it's something we've all of a sudden had to learn not to do. Is it possible that the handshake is dead? The handshake is not dead. At least I hope not.

The end of the handshake? Ahead on Sunday morning. With face masks in high demand, Lee Cowan provides a stitch in time. Connor Knighton offers a stay-at-home tour of our national parks.

Rita Braver is our guide to museums online. Jim Gaffigan updates us on his family's life in quarantine. Plus thoughts for Easter and Passover from Cardinal Timothy Dolan and others. On this Sunday morning, April 12th, 2020, we'll be right back.

First things first. We heard all kinds of numbers about the coronavirus this past week. Some hopeful, many disheartening. And then there's the toll on the economy.

More than six and a half million people added to the nation's jobless rolls last week. Dr. John Lapook and money correspondent Jill Schlesinger have been tracking the numbers. We begin with Dr. Lapook. We'd all love for there to be a miracle cure for COVID-19. And there are many talented researchers and pharmaceutical companies who are working around the clock to find an effective therapy. But as we do that, it's important that we embrace science.

What do I mean by that? Take hydroxychloroquine, for example. It's been in the news a lot lately. That's the drug that's been used for decades to treat conditions like malaria or autoimmune diseases like lupus and rheumatoid arthritis. A few small studies have looked at whether it's also effective in treating COVID-19, and the results have been mixed. So with no proven therapies available, where does that leave health professionals like me?

That's where science comes in. We've learned you need to do well-controlled, rigorous studies to figure out whether a drug works and whether the benefits outweigh the risks. But the clock is ticking, and patients are dying, and doctors like me want to do something right now, before those clinical trials are completed. That's the friction between well-controlled studies and what's called empiric therapy, basically trying something to see if it works. And right now, we're seeing a lot of empiric therapy around the country. Clinicians are throwing the kitchen sink at COVID-19 because patients are so sick. So patients will often receive a cocktail of medications, including hydroxychloroquine, but also perhaps other experimental drugs, to see, does it work?

With nothing else available, it's a reasonable thing to do. But as we do this, we must also do the best possible clinical trials, so we're relying on data, not belief. What's wrong with empiric therapy, especially if the patient is getting better? Well, the problem is you can't know whether a drug works unless you compare it to something else.

That means seeing if patients who get the drug do better than those not getting it. And at what stage in the infection does it work the best? Mild illness?

Severe illness? Can it perhaps prevent infection in people who have been exposed to the virus? All those studies are going on right now. And as always, we have to be on the lookout for side effects.

Hydroxychloroquine, for example, can rarely cause a serious irregular heartbeat in patients with autoimmune disease. It's only rare, but perhaps that risk will go up in patients who also are infected with COVID-19 and who are taking other medications. Well, it's likely that that risk can be significantly lowered by carefully monitoring those patients in a controlled study by picking up the side effect early.

Here's my bottom line. There are many potential therapies under development, and we're rooting for them all. The reality of treating very sick patients is that we clinicians want to try something, even if we're not sure it works. But this is no time to abandon the scientific method of doing careful research.

And if we continue to embrace science, our best guesses just may morph into effective therapies. This is Jill Schlesinger with the growing financial disaster for small business owners. These are my kids. That's in memory of my father. Like Jeff Garnett, who's made a business out of tattoos.

Whoa, what's that? This is like my animal sections. Not putting tattoos on. Don't take your pants off.

But taking them off. I had other work here that I had removed. So I, as a customer, started looking at tattoo removal, and I just hated everything about it.

So in 2012, he and his wife opened a laser tattoo removal shop and soon expanded to six locations, with eight employees in the New York area. Then the virus hit. But I did keep the employees on as long as I could. But then it did come to a point where I just said to them, look, we're going to have to temporarily let you go.

Dr. Veronique Batiste-Germain launched her eye care business 17 years ago. We're noted as essential care workers, but they've asked us to postpone routine care and just do urgent cases. Her office is now only open for limited hours on Saturdays. That means part-time work for two of her employees and furloughs for the other two. They understand that there's nothing coming in and I can't see patients, so it's going to be hard for me to pay them.

And they also understand I have to pay rent. At the Nurtury, a group of six Montessori child care centers in Florida, they're working centers in Florida and New York. They've gone from 150 students to just six. They're keeping one center open for children of essential workers like nurses and doctors. Co-owner Brianna Banahan says they're still paying their 47 employees for now. Our goal has been to keep them on payroll, working from home as best as you can. And many of them are helping us create online learning. Can you tell me which color is that?

White. Four infants, toddlers. And three to six-year-olds, which is a challenge in itself. Just over half of all American workers are employed by small businesses. That is, companies with 500 workers or fewer. Having an unexpected health crisis was not on any of these small businesses' radar. They don't have disaster contingency plans. They don't have Plan B. Alyssa Bard is a vice president at a New York nonprofit that helps small businesses get financing. What is it that they need right now? They really need access to capital immediately. They can't handle weeks or months of waiting for the financing to hit their bank account because they have bills to pay today, yesterday, employees to keep on their payroll if they possibly can. Many are counting on the $350 billion in small business administration loans that are part of the $2.2 trillion CARES Act. Because of surging demand, lawmakers are working to add another $250 billion to the program. It's absolutely critical. I don't see a lot of businesses surviving without that help.

The problem is, is how far is that help going to go? Because that money is going to go very quickly. Sometimes that's only two months' rent. The government is offering $10,000 disaster loans, which are made directly by the Small Business Administration. There's also the Paycheck Protection Program to help companies retain workers and pay for some additional expenses like rent and utilities, which can be forgiven.

To access this money, owners have to go through banks. It's been a frustrating process so far for many employers. And we have not heard back from that application process. And then the second option is the payroll protection loan.

So that we actually haven't even been able to apply for yet. So I reached out to my bank and they basically sent out an email saying that they don't really have anything in place yet. They haven't gotten instruction. We reached out to the SBA about the logjam.

They were unwilling to provide any official to offer an explanation. The need is urgent. The U.S. Chamber of Commerce says that almost a quarter of the country's small businesses say they will close permanently within two months without a financial lifeline. Dr. Germain speaks for many, seeing tough times ahead. I'm hoping I'll be able to keep it open, but I can't, you know, there's a big uncertainty there. So that's it's unnerving, you know, because I really don't know. Some of the best weapons against COVID-19 turn out to be a needle in thread.

As Lee Cowan now shows us, pitching in means stitching. To look at it from across Casco Bay, South Freeport, Maine looks as it always does. It's quaint and virus free. But it's silent streets and it's deserted docks tell a different story.

The threat of COVID-19 even here can seem as thick as Maine's famous fog. And yet these are all my upholstery projects. The wind has blown in something else too. Generosity. Okay, there we go. The black watch plaid that's there was for my son's bedroom. And when he saw everything that was going on, and he's only six, and he said, Mommy, I think somebody needs it more than I do. Bolts of fabric and other materials have been showing up here at North Sales, Maine.

All right, that's great. Ever since word spread that owner Eric Baldwin was no longer stitching sales, but making masks instead. I came into the shop one morning, and there was a Ziploc baggie stuffed in the door with about 20 feet of elastic that someone had in their drawer and and they said we hope you can use this. He and his partner Karen Haley this is quite a bit started making masks long before the CDC recommended wearing them. And now everyone wants to help, including one family that doesn't even know how to sew. She and her husband and daughter have been cutting out pieces at home, and I drop a bag off and trade another bag out of cut pieces, keeping our social distance. In Middletown, New Jersey, it takes a pretty good arm to deliver homemade masks. Just ask Sandy Magner. So this is my pineapple one. She started making them in her spare bedroom for chemotherapy patients who can't get their life-saving treatments without them. And you'd never sewed anything before?

No, no. Can you see the confidence I have in myself? She had plenty of confidence in your community too. I have had, you know, even the strangest people donate money and fabric. Even my ex-husband gave me money for fabric.

So everyone's pitching in. If defying an epidemic with needle and thread sounds familiar, well it should. Remember the AIDS memorial quilt? It helped raise awareness and a lot of money a few square feet at a time. During World War II, Uncle Sam's need was needles.

Knitting needles, mostly. Knit for victory campaigns were everywhere with Eleanor Roosevelt helping set the example for that generation and perhaps today. Do you feel it's a responsibility? Absolutely, I feel it's a responsibility.

It's a responsibility and it's an honor. William Hardy is with Carhartt, a company more than a century old now that helped train Red Cross workers to cut fabric for garments and outfitted our troops during both World Wars. So World War I, we made the trousers for our soldiers. Now we move into World War II and most people don't know we made the jungle suits for the Marines who fought in the Pacific theater. Now they're back at it making some 50,000 gowns and two and a half million masks all for a new kind of frontline warrior. It is emotional for me.

Why is it so emotional? I just think it's our time. I think about the sacrifice of those men and women that we're losing every day.

You know, this is a way to save some of our folk today and also make those folks proud that gave us the opportunity years and years ago. For some clothing designers though, this is brand new territory. 1000 masks.

Christian Seriano, the one-time Project Runway winner, has now made making masks his new reality. With retail stores shuttered almost indefinitely, storied brands like Ralph Lauren are galloping to the rescue too. How long do you think you guys are going to keep doing this? Well we're not going to stop. There's no way to stop. No one wants to stop. So we'll keep doing this until the problem goes away.

David Lauren, Ralph Lauren's son, is chief branding and innovation officer. It didn't matter where you work in our company and at what level. People came together with so much compassion and so much empathy. We have designers and people in our stores literally started making masks on their own.

Retooling the factory floors took just a week. There's so much willpower and so much good in the world. Everybody wants to support this and wants to do it fast.

Even when the outbreak peaks, officials warn that demand for protective equipment will continue. Some wonder if it will ever cease. It just seems like it's going to be very strange if things, you know, ever get back to normal. What's the new normal going to be? Hopefully it's one that doesn't forget that in the worst of times, the best of us comes out.

If we're helping anybody in the community or making anybody feel better by either donating their time or just feeling like they're contributing in some way, I think that makes us all feel better. Deep into a crisis so many are comparing to war, what is the leadership our nation needs? Our Sunday morning cover story comes from senior contributor, Ted Koppel.

It's great to see you. Stanley McChrystal is a retired four-star general. Okay, let's talk about where we are now. Who toward the end of his Army career, has been a leader in the military. General, okay, let's talk about where we are now. Who toward the end of his Army career, led the Joint Special Operations Command, Army Rangers, Navy Seals, Delta Force, 7,500 of the most highly trained and lethal warriors in the US military. I think leaders have got to be brutally honest with themselves about what the real situation is and what they're trying to do. But then I think they have to be extraordinarily candid with their followers. One, it's a sign of respect and two, it's just essential for long-term effectiveness.

Our adversary now is this virus. Dr. Penny Wheeler is a gynecologist and obstetrician who now runs Alina Health with its 11 hospitals and more than 90 clinics throughout Minnesota and Western Wisconsin. As president and CEO, Dr. Wheeler oversees staff of more than 29,000 employees. My job is to try to learn from them and get barriers that are creating barriers to their care or their growth out of the way. That's how I approach leadership.

I sure hope I'm not a pain in the butt. Father Joseph McShane is a Jesuit priest and the president of Fordham University in New York. In normal times, he'd be getting ready to preside over commencement ceremonies. These clearly are not normal times.

What more can we do? How can we be more present in a moment which doesn't allow us to be present physically? How can we be present to our people?

They may have little in common in terms of background and training, but each of them warrior, doctor, and priest is an accomplished leader. What do you think are the most important elements of leadership? That's a tough question. I think you have to begin with self-knowledge. Number two, you have to know what your priorities are. Number three, you have to be wise enough to ask for advice.

And four, you have to be humble enough to accept it. And if you're able to do those, you'll be a leader. Good leader, maybe.

Great leader, possibly. First of all, don't be in denial of what the true situation was and get the information from every vantage point you possibly can. The second would be learn as much as you can from the people who are the closest to the work.

They will help guide your choices and decisions, and there's genius that exists out there that you need to listen to. The third is, boy, collaborate as much as you can with others. Communicate, communicate, communicate, communicate. I think first you have to care. You can pretend you care about the organization, the mission, and the people, but if it's not true, over time, it will come out, and there will be a difference between what you say and what you do. I had a really bright lady come to my class at Yale teaching, and she gave me a quote I still use. She said, people will forgive you for not being the leader you should be, but they won't forgive you for not being the leader you claim to be.

So you've got to be genuine. There are really two viruses abroad in this country. The one is COVID-19, and the other is fear, and the fear can be almost as damaging as the disease. You're in charge.

What do you do? Well, fear is natural, and, you know, I've been scared. I've been scared by the COVID virus here recently. So I think first admit that fear is not a sign of weakness. Fear is usually good sense. Now, fear shouldn't put us into inaction. What fear should do is it should be a motivator. It should be something that causes us to be more cautious, but not slower in the way we operate. I had a doctor, Mr. Koppel, say that fear is an ailment too. Fear is an ailment, and what we want to do right now is do what we do best, which is to care compassionately with our expertise for the lives of others.

There's a mentor of mine who once said that I think healthcare is more about love than anything else. If you learn of some bad news, if you learn the things that you were expecting, let's say deliveries are not going to come, or if you learn something about the disease which is bad news, do you share it or do you hide it? No, I think it's really important to be able to be as open about these things as you possibly can, appropriately contextualize them for what it is, but we're trying to be very, very open about what we're seeing in the community, what our worries are in terms of having adequate protective equipment and equipment to care, adequate spaces to care for a surge that's anticipated.

We need to share that. It's not to be an alarmist. If people are experiencing something that is totally different from what you've said before, the trust factor goes down significantly. Let me take you back to your military days when you were running special operations forces. You would send these men and women out often on very, very dangerous missions. To what degree would you feel obliged to tell them the truth about the level of danger that they were heading into?

Complete. On a personal level, I grew up in the community, so I had a personal commitment to them as individuals. But as a leader, I knew that if I was not honest, if I was not straightforward, I put them in harm's way and pretty quickly, they would figure out that what I told them was incorrect or at least understated.

They'd lose faith in me. Leaders, says General McChrystal, have got to stand up. And what I mean by that is when it gets hard, when it gets morally questionable, when it gets physically dangerous, when it gets anything that tests the organization, the leader's got to stand up.

Now that means the leader may get killed, may get criticized, may get removed, but that's the leader's job. Father McShane has been at Fordham for more than 23 years. Inside the university church is a stained glass window depicting Saint Aloysius Gonzaga, who died of a plague he contracted caring for one of its victims. I walked past that stained glass window hundreds, probably thousands of times, and I knew who was there, but it never caught me the way it did. I walked into the university church as the virus was taking hold of the city of New York.

This invisible force. And I stood there transfixed, looking at this stained glass window that I had seen, but now I saw it. And I just stood there and tears came. Father McShane has been sending out weekly messages to the greater Fordham family in which he sometimes reveals his own sadness and his own fears. It was, I suggested, as though he was saying, you know, I'm no different from the rest of you.

Ted, that's exactly right. I have the same joys and sorrows that they have, the same concerns, the same fears. And yet in this very complicated moment, moment of peril, but also of great goodness. There's great goodness that's showing itself now among the American people and people all over the world, great heroism, great, great love.

Dr. Wheeler also finds a spark of hope glimmering within the pandemic. We're never really going to be quite the same after this, are we? No, I don't think we're going to be quite the same. I wonder sometimes if maybe a new greatest generation will be born. That's my greatest hope, is that out of this and out of the collective we and what we will accomplish and go through together, that something new will be born.

And that's hope renewed. A reminder that while we're all homebound, check out our Sunday morning website and stay with CBS News for the latest on this always changing coronavirus pandemic. Some 850 million people visit our nation's museums in an ordinary year. This being no ordinary year, Rita Braver reminds us there is an alternative. Museums have always been a way to escape the pressures of daily life. Yet, just as we really need them, they're closed. Except, thank goodness, online. Well, it's a whole new world. You can use your mouse and zoom in really close and look at fine details of paintings.

You can find out lots of written information. A lot of museums, you can take a tour of an exhibition or through galleries. We had a socially distanced chat outside the National Gallery of Art in Washington with director Kaywin Feldman. But no chance to visit the blockbuster exhibit, The National Gallery of Art in Washington. No chance to visit the blockbuster exhibit inside. It must be hard for you not to be able to have visitors come in and see this exhibit. It really is a heartbreak because our curators spent years and years working on this exhibition that we've done with the Musee d'Orsay of Degas at the Opera. And yet we put it all online so visitors can take a virtual tour.

It's not the same as the real thing, but it's pretty darn close. In fact, armchair surfing across all sorts of media is so easy that museums across the country are seeing a huge surge in online traffic. Since today's Easter Sunday, take a peek at this gorgeous collection of Fabergé Easter eggs. Or check out the National Museum of African American History and Culture's Instagram feed. You can even watch a curator give a talk about a favorite painting right from her home. Art lovers around the world are taking advantage of being stuck at home by recreating their own versions of masterpieces. Having fun with just about any artist you can think of, Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring will never be the same.

It's about creative expression, it's about humor, and it's about a reminder that we're all in this together. Without human guests, aquariums have new tourists, penguins parade in Chicago, while puppies prance in Atlanta. You can even go on safari from home. We have six meerkats living here at the Cincinnati Zoo. The one up here closest to you right now, his name is Mark. He is very smart, he's great at training, and he's very greedy about bugs.

Well the mustache and the hat don't hurt. And there are new social media stars. With the rest of the staff gone from the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum in Oklahoma City, the chief of security, who goes by hashtag the cowboy, has become a Twitter sensation.

What's that been like for you? That's unreal. I mean, none of us, none of us expected it to be where it is right now. Folks just can't get enough of his homespun posts like, these boots were made for riding, and that's just what they'll do. Or, don't think she likes coffee, probably because she's a sculpture. Why do you think people like this so much?

I honestly, honestly don't know. I think it's just a good positive thing to do right now. Plus, it shows off what we have here. Still, even while offering us respite at home, many museums, small and small, many museums, small and large, are starting to struggle financially.

Case in point, New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art had to cancel its star-studded Costume Institute fundraiser, and says it will lose 100 million dollars this year. But crises have often inspired great art. Dorothea Lange's moving photos of the Great Depression, Edward Hopper's Nighthawks, painted soon after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Keith Haring's response to AIDS, and Kaywin Feldman of the National Gallery of Art believes, in these troubled times, people can get tangible comfort from art.

We stop worrying about our everyday problems and the things close to us, and we realize we're part of the human condition. Hi, podcast peeps. It's me, Drew Barrymore.

Oh my goodness. I want to tell you about our new show. It's the Drew's News podcast. And in each episode, me and a weekly guest are going to cover all the quirky, fun, inspiring, and informative stories that exist out in the world because, well, I need it.

And maybe you do too. From the newest interior design trend, Barbie Corps, to the right and wrong way to wash your armpits, armpits. Also, we're going to get into things that you just kind of won't believe and were not able to do in daytime television, so watch out.

Listen to Drew's News wherever you get your podcasts. It's your good news on the go. Terrifying as this pandemic may be, it's not without precedent. Former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright is author of the new book, Hell and Other Destinations, and has thoughts for us. A quarter of a century ago, when I was in the government, the HIV AIDS pandemic swept through much of the world. Medical facilities were overwhelmed. Average life expectancy in some countries dropped by 40%. As Secretary of State, I met in Africa with women who'd been infected by men who refused to admit they had the disease.

I held infants who had just been born, but who were already dying. I exhorted opinion leaders to help, but was told by some that it was the victims who were to blame. Then gradually, people started listening to what public health experts had to say. The private sector mobilized. Governments, including that of the United States, commenced to lead. Today, AIDS is still a serious problem, but no longer a mortal threat to civilization.

The coronavirus presents a unique set of challenges, but the answers are similar. We need leaders who will take responsibility who will take responsibility instead of casting blame. Citizens who will respect the safety of their neighbors. Corporations that will rise above business as usual. During the Second World War, my father was head of broadcasting for the Czechoslovak government in exile.

The program was introduced by a kettle drum playing the first note of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. Morse code for the letter B, the allied symbol for victory. Today, we must come together in a new alliance for victory over the virus.

That is the message in the pin I'm wearing this morning, and my Easter and Passover prayer for all. In this era of social distancing, Lo Rockus says the simple handshake is becoming a distant memory. Mr. Stokowski?

Mr. Stokowski? Just wanted to offer my congratulations, sir. It's a ritual we take for granted when we say hello, when we say goodbye, as a gesture of goodwill.

You can start tomorrow. Oh, but that's just wonderful. And as a show of respect.

So I'll see you tomorrow. And it's something we've all of a sudden had to learn not to do. Is it possible that the handshake is dead? The handshake is not dead, at least I hope not.

It's on hold temporarily until the world is well again. Patricia Napier Fitzpatrick is founder of the Etiquette School of New York. I often say I teach knives and forks and handshakes because that's how important handshakes are and greetings. Mary Jackson, Mr. Glenn.

Engineering. It's a good grip you have, Danaher. Yes, there is a proper technique.

One simply extends one's right arm toward the other person, gripping web to web, and you shake from the elbow one, two, two smooth pumps, holding firmly, but not a bone crusher and not a limp noodle. I once read about little remembered President Benjamin Harrison of the late 19th century. A critic of his said he had a handshake like a wilted petunia.

Oh, my. You see that people remember your handshakes. It's an instrumental part of your first impression. It's just a very primal sort of a connection, very emotional.

David Givens is an anthropologist with Gonzaga University in Spokane, Washington. He says the handshake reaches back 60 million years. Chimpanzees and gorillas do much the same thing. They they long for tactile contact.

They basically reach out with the forelimbs and especially with the palm. So it's not an accident that we greet each other by shaking hands? No, because hands have all the neurological circuitry and the emotional parts that we need to make good contact with our fellow humans. And throughout human history, a hand clasp that sealed the bargain, the handshake has been an expression of peace and forgiveness.

Alas, it is also, as we've learned, an excellent delivery vehicle for germs. The casual handshake is pretty much present dead. The formal handshake or closing a business deal, this I think will remain, but there'll be precautions beforehand.

You may even use a thin glove to make the handshake. Miriam Roddy, the last Thursday of June, is what? National Handshake Day, used to be anyway. Miriam Roddy of Brody Professional Development in Jenkintown, Pennsylvania, is such a fan of handshaking, she created National Handshake Day in 2004. My personal pet peeve is the macho cowboy, aka I don't want to hurt the little lady, or you know, you know, I just want to kind of give you a little grip here. I demand respect and I would like a firm grip.

She knows that this June's celebration will have to be virtual. I feel like if the handshake is gone, that would be very sad for me personally. But even if we can't touch, David Givens says we'll still use our hands, what he calls our emotional smart parts, to communicate goodwill. And a good example is the Plains Indian greeting where you raise your palm, palm out, and shine it at another person from a distance. The eyes are going to be especially important now because that's how we're going to communicate warmth and trust. Perhaps we'll look to Asia for alternatives, or to outer space. And await the day when we can once again join hands with our fellow man and woman. Four weeks into family quarantine and Jim Gaffigan is still learning the ropes.

Hi, I'm Jim Gaffigan and I used to do stand-up comedy, I used to write, and I also did some acting, but now I'm a professional shut-in living with my wife and five children in our New York City apartment. The daily ritual of cooking for and cleaning up after five children seems cool. Well, it seemed cruel until they started their distance learning program. Distance learning, how do I say this without cursing? I'm going to remind you I've made comments on a lot of your work.

Go back and check. If you've never heard of distance learning, that means you probably don't have children or you're a worse parent than I am. You can also write, you can also say ching in two sentences, right?

Like what's ching? For students, they get to go to school but don't get to be with their friends. For teachers, they get to teach but only to a screen.

Just write a message to me and I will get back to you. And for parents, we get to fail a tech support and class monitor. I can't hear anyone. I can't hear anyone.

I can't hear anyone though. All right, that's all right. We have five children on five different devices in five different parts of my New York City apartment with five different schedules that happen simultaneously. Sounds fun, right?

Well, it sure is. My wife has created elaborate color-coded schedules and charts to manage when online classes end and others begin. There's usually some drama with every change. The great irony of distance learning is that it occurs on screens. Screens, the great enemy of parents. Parents are always trying to get the screens away from their children. But during quarantine and during distance learning, you give them the screens and then you take them and then you give them and then you take them. It's fun. It's fun. If you don't know what it's like to take a screen from a child, just imagine you're trying to convince an addict to go to rehab. What are you doing? Nothing, I was just looking at it. It's not time.

My wife and I just finally caved and bought a steel charging contraption that locks away the screens. Now, that may seem extreme, but we've only had to change the combination twice this week. I guess the point I'm saying here on Easter is we're having fun. Be safe, everyone. In this very different time, Nathan Lane is doing something different. He's playing a detective on TV and talking with our Martha Teichner. Hi, Martha. How do we say hello in the era?

The awkwardness was just beginning when we sat down last month with Nathan Lane. Are we far enough away? I hope so. I really hope so. A Broadway star for once happy not to be on Broadway with all the theaters closed. I bet you're glad you've got a TV show right now.

Sure, I mean, and that we finished it, that we did our entire season. It's a wicked world. The 10-part series Penny Dreadful City of Angels, premieres April 26th on Showtime, part of ViacomCBS. It's a noir murder mystery, tinged with the supernatural. Randolph himself. Nathan Lane's character? He appears to be one thing, which is this sardonic, tough-talking, classic sort of Raymond Chandler-esque character, and yet he's a tortured soul. Maybe it's Pachucos. A long-time police detective in 1938 Los Angeles. In this life, you're a cowboy or you're an Indian. What was happening in LA in 1938, there are these parallels, the persecution of the Latino community, and in the case of Los Angeles, the Nazi infiltration.

Hitler thought Los Angeles would make a great base of operations, but Nazi infiltration was nationwide. He's my prisoner. Nathan Lane, at 64, is grateful for the chance to try something new. I'm feeling like, you know, at this point, the gods looked down on me and said, uh, you know what, let's let them have this. What do you want me to do, dress in drag and do the hula?

I don't think we'll be seeing any more of that. Lane is, after all, best known for being funny. I've always thought of you as being like my sons. Sons? I was going to say brothers.

It's like a house of pain. Comedy! Wander through his career, you can't help but laugh. I was adorable once, young and full of hope.

Now, look at me, I'm this short, fat, insecure, middle-aged thing. He was poignant and funny as a gay man in the Birdcage with Robin Williams. Now, there's an idiotic issue, gays in the military.

I mean, those haircuts, those uniforms, who cares? It took Lane nearly three years after Birdcage to come out publicly. I came up in a different generation, and that whole feeling of making a big statement about it, I was never comfortable with, and selfishly, there was a part of me that thought, I've finally gotten to this point where I'm playing the lead, one of the leads in a film, in a big movie, and if I say this, will that destroy all of that?

Does it all go away? So I wish I had been braver, but you can only do what you can do at the time. By then, Lane had met Devlin Elliott. They were married in 2015. Elliott is a theatrical producer.

Yup, one of those guys Nathan Lane played so hilariously alongside Matthew Broderick in the 2001 Broadway mega hit, The Producers. Never put your own money in the show. And two? Never put your own money in the show! It was a hard act to follow, because they just want you to keep doing the same thing. The lance used to say, what time do you want dinner? And I'd say, I don't know, I'm not hungry. Then at three o'clock in the morning, I'd wake her up and say, now.

And people expect you to be funny. Yes, yes. Every member of our band, living, dead, and undecided. Lane was doing his comic thing in the Adams family in 2010, when the New York Times published a flattering profile, calling him the greatest stage entertainer of the decade. I read this piece and I was like, that's interesting, you know, that's how he sees me. It was enough to make me say, is that all there is? I feel like I have a lot more to offer as an actor. So he pitched himself for the lead in Eugene O'Neill's tragedy, The Iceman Cometh.

It's exactly those damn tomorrow dreams which keep you from making peace with yourself. Say it, I mean it! Say Roy Cole, you are a homosexual.

In a 2018 revival of the AIDS play, Angels in America. And I will proceed systematically to destroy your reputation and your practice and your career. Lane was lawyer to the powerful Roy Cohn, hated for his part in the 1950s Red Scare. Does someone who is known for being likable find it difficult to leap into a role playing somebody who is so reviled? No, I know, I love that.

I love being unlikable. You know, that role, it's a gift. So too, how he sees his roles in plays by his friend and mentor, Terrence McNally.

Even a boyfriend if I had one, which I don't! Who wrote about gay life and the AIDS plague. It was such a monumental part of my life. When McNally died of coronavirus last month, Lane asked if he could add his thoughts.

It's awful that, you know, for someone, I think someone else said, you know, for someone who survived another plague to have been brought down by this is just horrific and it's really, but it's about remembering him at this moment and his work. As for his own work, Nathan Lane's very first Broadway show was Present Laughter in 1982. Its star was George C. Scott, who years later offered him this wisdom. I hadn't seen him in a long time, and he said, do you love it? Do you still love it? I said, love what? And he said, acting! I said, yes, I do, and he said, good, don't ever lose that. Do you still love it?

I do, with all my heart. A journey through all our national parks is pretty much out of the question right now. Allow Connor Knighton to suggest a plan B. April is typically one of the busiest months of the year at Joshua Tree National Park.

Not this April. On April 1st, Joshua Tree closed to the public as national parks all across the country have shut their gates. Basically, we could not guarantee that the people inside the park were going to be safe because they kept on congregating in such large numbers. David Smith is the superintendent at Joshua Tree, a park that's nearly 800,000 acres. But as we've been seeing at parks across the country, people still want to hike the popular trails. This was the scene at now-closed Zion National Park just a few weeks ago. In addition, many of our most spectacular parks are near some of our most vulnerable towns. It's a 17-bed hospital with zero ICU rooms. Braden Bradford is the director of the Southeast Utah Health Department. He pleaded with the Park Service to please close Canyonlands and Arches so that visitors wouldn't overwhelm Moab Small Hospital.

We love you all, but now is not the time. Taking that road trip to enjoy America's best idea just isn't the best idea right now. Four years ago, I took the mother of all road trips. I visited every national park in the country.

But while I was out there on the trail, I discovered there are a surprising number of ways you can enjoy the great outdoors indoors. When I visited Colorado's Great Sand Dunes National Park, measured to be one of the quietest places in the entire country, scientist Kurt Fristrup mentioned that his team had also been collecting some of their favorite noises. We try to capture the greatest hits, sort of albums of all the unusual or particularly significant or interesting sounds that we get in parks. Go to nps.gov slash sound and you can hear some of those greatest hits. You can listen to a coyote giving chase, a thunderstorm at Big Bend, or just cue up the curated park tracks mix when you need to calm down in between conference calls. When I visited Alaska's Kenai Fjords National Park, I hung out with Ranger Fiona North.

And now you can do the same thing. Thanks to Google's Arts and Culture Project, you can follow Ranger North deep down into a glacial crevasse. That was also the perfect time to delve into the fascinating histories of our parks.

For example, if COVID-19 had occurred back in 1919, a doctor would have most likely recommended treating the virus with a bath down in Arkansas. Online you can read about how the water at Hot Springs National Park was once thought to cure everything from rheumatism to syphilis. At several of the parks, including Joshua Tree, Rangers like Sarah Jane Pepper are offering Skype field trips for students. Our parks are giant classrooms. Sometimes it can be comforting just to be reminded that these places are still out there. That's why so many of our Sunday morning moments of nature come from the national parks. My new book, Leave Only Footprints, is about the powerful impact the parks had on my own life.

While writing it, I frequently found inspiration in the words of writer John Muir, who argued that wildness is a necessity. Going to the mountains is going home. For now, I am staying parked inside, like we all should be.

But when this is all past, I can't tell you how excited I'm going to be to get out of the house and head home. Some thoughts now on Easter and Passover. First from Timothy Cardinal Dolan, Archbishop of New York. And then from Rabbi Jose Rolando Matalan of the B'nai Jeshron Synagogue in Manhattan.

Cardinal Timothy Dolan here, everybody, on Madison Avenue in my office here right behind St. Patrick's Cathedral. Happy Easter Sunday morning. Do we ever need a little Easter right this very moment, don't we? I've always been captivated on CBS Sunday Morning Show to see your logo at the beginning of the sun rising. And we celebrate today the sun rising, giving us the hope and confidence that every new day does. But today, for us Christians, we celebrate that the sun, S-O-N, the only begotten Son of God, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, has risen to new life and invites us to share in that gift of resurrection. To our Jewish neighbors, thank you for reminding us that God can bring liberation and hope and promise out of plagues, as he did for you during the Passover in Egypt. To those of you who might not have any faith at all, still let's rejoice in spring as we see the new life, as spring, the sun, conquers the death and the chill of winter. And to you and me who are Christians, let's thanks be to God that at a moment of trial in our beloved communities, in our country, and indeed on this planet that we call our earthly home, in this moment of admitted darkness and trauma, we have the hope and the confidence of new life in the resurrection of the Son of God.

A blessed Easter everybody. This week, Jews around the world are celebrating the sacred holiday of Passover, which commemorates the liberation of our ancestors from slavery and oppression in ancient Egypt. Egypt is called Mitsrayim in Hebrew, which means the narrow place, the place of constriction and confinement. Because of the coronavirus pandemic, millions and millions of us around the world now find ourselves in a narrow place. We are confined, afraid, and anguished in the face of this deadly disease. The Torah tells us that right before our ancestors fled Egypt, families and neighbors came together in the dark of night to share the sacrificial paschal lamb.

They all came out of their isolation and self-centeredness, and they experienced the power of loving community, which is what we relive each year at the Passover Seder table. Today for all of us, Jewish or not, there is an important call here. In spite of our forced isolation, it is a time for us to extend ourselves, to reach out in solidarity and care for one another, to do whatever we can to see that healing and liberation will come to us soon. And when we are liberated, when we return to the streets, to our workplaces, and to one another, I pray it be with a new awareness and appreciation for just how extraordinary normal life is, with greater appreciation for the blessing of our extended families, our friends, and our neighbors. I hope this happens soon for all of us in safety and health. Happy holidays. Thoughts from Rabbi Jose Rolando Matalan and Timothy Cardinal Dolan. I'm Jane Pauley. Please stay safe and join us when our trumpet sounds again next Sunday morning. Thank you.