Sneezy is sixth in line among the seven dwarfs in Disney’s 1937 “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” as they leave the mine and sing “Heigh Ho” on the way home. With a severe case of hay fever, when the dwarf sneezes, oh boy, watch out! His sneezes erupt with gale force capability and can knock down people, plants, and almost anything else in their path.
Knowing this, the other dwarfs are quick to hold his nose whenever he feels a sneeze coming on. But sometimes he sneezes without warning, telling others, “You can’t always tell. When you gotta, you gotta.”
Sneezes are unpredictable. They offer little warning, just enough — if we are lucky — to grab a handkerchief or tissue or bend an elbow, before they burst onto the scene. Because they are a reflex reaction from the autonomic nervous system, they can’t be stopped and shouldn’t be suppressed. They’ve even been known to trigger heart attacks when suppressed.
Besides, they feel good, says ENT medical researcher Dr. Holly Boyer at the University of Minnesota — who points out sneezing stimulates endorphins and gives us a short mood lift.
Sneezes are usually caused by some kind of irritant: dust, allergens, smoke, bacteria. When that happens, the diaphragm contracts and the vocal cords close, building up pressure in the chest until that pressure must be released. Then, wham, there it goes, sneezing begins.
My wife has very soft, quiet sneezes. It’s difficult to hear her. My Dad, on the other hand, could register his sneezes on the Richter scale. They weren’t just loud, they were ferocious. Scientists have clocked sneezes at more than 100 miles per hour with up to 30 feet of spray. Be careful neighbors!

As we age, we are likely to sneeze more than when we were younger because our mucous membranes in our nasal passages become more fragile and lose some of their protective functions. The septum also becomes more fragile and weakens with aging, making us more susceptible to pollen or worsening asthma for those who already face that condition.
Because of its ubiquity, sneezing rituals have been around for a very long time. In ancient Greek and Roman times, there was some question about whether the soul could leave the body during a sneeze. Saying “bless you” was a way to safeguard the sneezer’s soul.
It’s difficult to pin down the exact origin of the phrase “God bless you” after sneezing but it likely began in the 14th century when the Bubonic Plague was rampant.. Sneezing was also a symptom of the plague and since the likelihood of survival was low, bystanders said “God bless you” because there was little hope coming from anywhere else.
With immigration in the late 19th century to America, the German word “gesundheit” (meaning “health”) crept into common usage — although during the two World Wars it lost much of its shine. The word is still popular in the Midwest, however, albeit not common elsewhere in the country.
In Latino culture, a three word blessing is available for those who sneeze at least three times: salud (health), dinero (wealth), and amor (love). It’s quite normal to sneeze in two’s and three’s so Spanish speakers get to use these blessings a lot. While its origins are unclear, it’s hard to imagine a better triple-blessing aspiration.
In The Netherlands, the Dutch start out with two blessings following two sneezes — health and wealth —but change the third one to a phrase that means “wishing for good weather.” It can be dreary there, for sure, but “good weather” over “love”? Where are their priorities?
Handkerchiefs, carried by both men and women until the 1930s, have now largely disappeared from daily life in America. Rather than essential to a man’s wardrobe, they have been relegated at best to pocket squares in men’s jackets. In Japan, however, the majority of the populace, regardless of age or circumstance, still carry a handkerchief on a regular basis.
But what if there’s neither a handkerchief nor a tissue (kleenex) available? What, then? Time to use a hand, crooked elbow, shirt?
Respondents to a Reddit survey overwhelmingly said using the crook of your arm is the preferred method for covering up for a sneeze, in the absence of something better.
Other contributors to unexpected sneezing include feathers, pepper, and allergens; one friend tells me an uncontrollable sneeze follows every time he downs a wintergreen mint. The sun can also prompt a good sneeze. In fact, about one in four people who go from a darkened room into bright sunlight are “sun sneezers.” Even Aristotle had this "photic sneeze reflex" and tried to discover why. He never did.
Today, scientists explain this as having a lot to do with the intensity of the sunlight: the brighter the sunlight, the more likely a sun sneeze is on the way. In some instances, researchers say, sun sneezes can be prevented by placing your finger horizontally across the philtrum, the groove under the middle of the nose, and applying pressure to it. (Just like in the movies, it’s kind of like giving yourself a mustache with your finger). Apparently, this works with sun sneezes more than the other kinds.
Add sneezing to the old saying about death and taxes. They are all unavoidable. But in a sneeze’s case, they are good for us. They not only “clear the air” in our nasal passages, but they also allow us, like a computer, to reboot and get going again.
So sneeze away, but grab a handkerchief if you can.