The Black Death, one of the most devastating pandemics in human history, killed an estimated one-third to two-thirds of Europe's population between 1346 and 1353. Despite its massive impact, many medieval records from that time show little mention of the plague. Historians believe this silence was due to several factors, including the fear that discussing the disease might bring it upon people again, the deep trauma of the experience, and the types of sources available for study. These sources, like legal documents and financial records, often lacked personal accounts or emotional reflections, which may explain why the memory of the plague faded from many historical records. Pandemics often leave behind complex and contested memories, and this is especially true for the Black Death. As the world moves on from the recent global experience of the Covid-19 pandemic, societies are beginning to think about how to remember it—through personal memorials, public commemorations, or other forms of recognition. Looking back at how past societies handled the memory of pandemics, like the Black Death, can offer insights into how we might approach the memory of today’s crisis. During the Black Death, the fear of the plague was so intense that people avoided talking about it. Some believed that even thinking or speaking about the disease could bring it upon them. This belief is reflected in writings from the time, such as those by the Carmelite friar Jean de Venette, who suggested that the plague could be transmitted not only by physical contact but also by imagination or stories. This fear led to a silence that may have helped erase the memory of the plague from historical records. The trauma of the Black Death also played a role in how it was remembered. In some areas, the sheer number of deaths led to mass burials in pits, as cemeteries could not accommodate the dead. Some people, like the Scandinavian physician Bengt Knutsson, advised against fear and encouraged joy in life, possibly to avoid invoking the plague. In 15th-century North Yorkshire, a community was divided over how to describe the disease—some called it the plague, while others used a different term, showing how the language used to describe a disease could shape its memory and the fear it inspired. Despite the lack of personal accounts, the Black Death left a lasting mark on medieval culture. The rise of the "Dance of Death" in art, which showed Death leading people of all social classes, reflected the anxiety of sudden, unprepared death. Survivors also left behind personal traces, like graffiti on church walls. These inscriptions described the plague as "pitiful, fierce, and violent" and included prayers or memorials for lost loved ones. These small remnants help historians piece together the personal experiences of those who lived through the plague. The way future generations remember the Covid-19 pandemic will depend on what is recorded, preserved, and commemorated today. Just as the Black Death's memory is shaped by the limited records that survived, the memory of the current pandemic will be influenced by the stories, documents, and memorials that are created now. Understanding how the past handled such moments of crisis can help guide how we choose to remember the present one.