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24 Hours in a Pandemic Nation | 24 Hours in a Pandemic Nation |
(32 minutes later) | |
The merciless threat slipped into America, emptying its streets, shuttering its stores, wrecking its economy and forcing its people to retreat indoors. | The merciless threat slipped into America, emptying its streets, shuttering its stores, wrecking its economy and forcing its people to retreat indoors. |
In this new country, once crowded cities now feel abandoned, as if everyone suddenly moved out. There is no rush hour on the nation’s highways. “Closed” signs hang from the front doors of business after business. | In this new country, once crowded cities now feel abandoned, as if everyone suddenly moved out. There is no rush hour on the nation’s highways. “Closed” signs hang from the front doors of business after business. |
For many, this coronavirus pandemic involves the most dramatic kind of fight — for life, for food, for money. For others, it can feel absurdly trifling as they stay inside — a fight against boredom, binge eating, isolation. | For many, this coronavirus pandemic involves the most dramatic kind of fight — for life, for food, for money. For others, it can feel absurdly trifling as they stay inside — a fight against boredom, binge eating, isolation. |
There was Kalee Kamer, in Portsmouth, Ohio, 27 months sober and motivated to stay that way, participating in a recovery meeting that has moved online. Chris Allison, patrolling the quiet city of Norman, Okla., in a sanitized police vehicle and with a blue face mask. And the Rev. Rob Lee, a pastor in Newton, N.C., without a congregation, summoning hope amid the gloom. | There was Kalee Kamer, in Portsmouth, Ohio, 27 months sober and motivated to stay that way, participating in a recovery meeting that has moved online. Chris Allison, patrolling the quiet city of Norman, Okla., in a sanitized police vehicle and with a blue face mask. And the Rev. Rob Lee, a pastor in Newton, N.C., without a congregation, summoning hope amid the gloom. |
This was America over 24 hours this past week, on pause and full-tilt, as the sun rose and then set and then rose again on a profoundly altered nation. | This was America over 24 hours this past week, on pause and full-tilt, as the sun rose and then set and then rose again on a profoundly altered nation. |
6:30 a.m. | 6:30 a.m. |
A trip to a ventanita, in Miami culture, is not just about the $1.82 cup of sweet and foamy cafecito. It is about conversation and gossip, a hangout for nosy retirees and chatty working stiffs. Queuing is taboo. Wriggling and squeezing are the ways to reach the counter. | A trip to a ventanita, in Miami culture, is not just about the $1.82 cup of sweet and foamy cafecito. It is about conversation and gossip, a hangout for nosy retirees and chatty working stiffs. Queuing is taboo. Wriggling and squeezing are the ways to reach the counter. |
Or at least they were. | Or at least they were. |
Flouting social distancing rules, crowds continued to congregate outside ventanitas, so much so that the county mayor threatened to shut them down. Sergio’s, where the espresso machine continues to whirl and buzz, rushed to tape markers — six feet apart — on the ground. | Flouting social distancing rules, crowds continued to congregate outside ventanitas, so much so that the county mayor threatened to shut them down. Sergio’s, where the espresso machine continues to whirl and buzz, rushed to tape markers — six feet apart — on the ground. |
Now customers approach with caution, peering through new panes of plexiglass to order. Many scurry off with their provisions tucked in a brown paper bag. | Now customers approach with caution, peering through new panes of plexiglass to order. Many scurry off with their provisions tucked in a brown paper bag. |
“This is my only outing,” said Daisy Abreu, 58, who works in magazines and left with one café con leche, one guava pastry and two empanadas. | “This is my only outing,” said Daisy Abreu, 58, who works in magazines and left with one café con leche, one guava pastry and two empanadas. |
But first she lingered for a moment to check in with Reinaldo Mesa, a 61-year-old airport contractor who picked up coffee and a medianoche sandwich. He, too, had given up most everything in his daily routine. Except the ventanita. | But first she lingered for a moment to check in with Reinaldo Mesa, a 61-year-old airport contractor who picked up coffee and a medianoche sandwich. He, too, had given up most everything in his daily routine. Except the ventanita. |
— Patricia Mazzei | — Patricia Mazzei |
8 a.m. | 8 a.m. |
Sherry Maloney rolled out of bed, strapped on a face mask and headed for the Safeway. Today was toilet paper day. Maybe. | Sherry Maloney rolled out of bed, strapped on a face mask and headed for the Safeway. Today was toilet paper day. Maybe. |
Rumor had it that a shipment of paper products had come in the night before. By 6:30 a.m., she was standing outside, shivering with her husband, fingers crossed she would snag a package. | Rumor had it that a shipment of paper products had come in the night before. By 6:30 a.m., she was standing outside, shivering with her husband, fingers crossed she would snag a package. |
One man was down to three rolls at home. A woman said she was about ready to cut squares out of cloth diapers. “I’ve been rationing two squares a trip,” said Ms. Maloney, 63. | One man was down to three rolls at home. A woman said she was about ready to cut squares out of cloth diapers. “I’ve been rationing two squares a trip,” said Ms. Maloney, 63. |
In the grand scheme of things, a toilet paper shortage at home is certainly not the worst crisis. But it is also certainly not normal in a land of plenty. | In the grand scheme of things, a toilet paper shortage at home is certainly not the worst crisis. But it is also certainly not normal in a land of plenty. |
Inside the locked store, clerks wiped down shopping carts and spritzed the self-checkout stations. Outside, everyone talked about how a trip to the store had devolved into a Hobbesian supermarket sweep. Jostling lines. Frantic customers. Stressed employees, exposed to God knows what germs for God knows how many hours every day. | Inside the locked store, clerks wiped down shopping carts and spritzed the self-checkout stations. Outside, everyone talked about how a trip to the store had devolved into a Hobbesian supermarket sweep. Jostling lines. Frantic customers. Stressed employees, exposed to God knows what germs for God knows how many hours every day. |
“It’s starting to get ugly,” Ms. Maloney said. But it was friendly in line this morning. Two buddies ran into each other — “Don’t shake his hand!” one shouted. | “It’s starting to get ugly,” Ms. Maloney said. But it was friendly in line this morning. Two buddies ran into each other — “Don’t shake his hand!” one shouted. |
The doors slid open, and Ms. Maloney strode inside. | The doors slid open, and Ms. Maloney strode inside. |
— Jack Healy | — Jack Healy |
10 a.m. | 10 a.m. |
Tonnia Blount shifted her big yellow school bus into gear and started off on the route she had been running for a decade, only now with no children to pick up and none to drop off. They were all at home, stuck in little bungalows and apartments scattered across the working-class neighborhoods of southeast Atlanta. | Tonnia Blount shifted her big yellow school bus into gear and started off on the route she had been running for a decade, only now with no children to pick up and none to drop off. They were all at home, stuck in little bungalows and apartments scattered across the working-class neighborhoods of southeast Atlanta. |
But with nearly four in five Atlanta public school students poor enough to qualify for free or reduced lunch, most still needed their cafeteria calories. So this was Ms. Blount’s work for the foreseeable future: pulling her empty bus in front of Martin Luther King Jr. Middle School, loading it up with brown sacks full of breakfast and lunch, and then delivering the sacks out in the maze of narrow streets, more like the driver of an ice-cream truck. | But with nearly four in five Atlanta public school students poor enough to qualify for free or reduced lunch, most still needed their cafeteria calories. So this was Ms. Blount’s work for the foreseeable future: pulling her empty bus in front of Martin Luther King Jr. Middle School, loading it up with brown sacks full of breakfast and lunch, and then delivering the sacks out in the maze of narrow streets, more like the driver of an ice-cream truck. |
“I know my children,” she said. “I know who is in need.” | “I know my children,” she said. “I know who is in need.” |
Every few blocks, Ms. Blount, 55, stopped the bus and honked until the parents and grandparents and aunties came out. “How many babies?” a co-worker in the back of the bus would ask them, smiling, handing the bags down. | Every few blocks, Ms. Blount, 55, stopped the bus and honked until the parents and grandparents and aunties came out. “How many babies?” a co-worker in the back of the bus would ask them, smiling, handing the bags down. |
Sometimes they were not babies at all. Bryan Bush, 19, came out of an apartment in sweats and a hoodie. He had been working at Six Flags Over Georgia, the amusement park. | Sometimes they were not babies at all. Bryan Bush, 19, came out of an apartment in sweats and a hoodie. He had been working at Six Flags Over Georgia, the amusement park. |
Not anymore, he said. He grabbed a sack of breakfast and a sack of lunch. | Not anymore, he said. He grabbed a sack of breakfast and a sack of lunch. |
— Richard Fausset | — Richard Fausset |
11:40 a.m. | 11:40 a.m. |
Thalia Bardell crouched in front of the laptop she had propped up on a chair, centering it in the roughly three-foot-wide wedge of space between the end of her unmade bed and a dresser. | Thalia Bardell crouched in front of the laptop she had propped up on a chair, centering it in the roughly three-foot-wide wedge of space between the end of her unmade bed and a dresser. |
“Hi, B!” she called out to the screen. “How’s the dogs?” | “Hi, B!” she called out to the screen. “How’s the dogs?” |
“They’re trouble,” the screen replied. | “They’re trouble,” the screen replied. |
Ms. Bardell teaches barre exercises, which are modeled loosely after ballet, to mostly women in their 20s, 30s and 40s. When Boston shut down, her clients begged her to come up with a way to give their minds and bodies a break from idle worry about the pandemic. | Ms. Bardell teaches barre exercises, which are modeled loosely after ballet, to mostly women in their 20s, 30s and 40s. When Boston shut down, her clients begged her to come up with a way to give their minds and bodies a break from idle worry about the pandemic. |
Live-streamed exercise instruction was having a moment before the crisis, as home fitness companies like Peloton paired their machines with remote-access instructors. Now teaching remotely is one of the few options instructors have left. | Live-streamed exercise instruction was having a moment before the crisis, as home fitness companies like Peloton paired their machines with remote-access instructors. Now teaching remotely is one of the few options instructors have left. |
She called the group to attention. “All right guys, let’s go!” Nurses, bartenders, teachers and financial analysts appeared on the screen, following her through a routine of squats and lunges as she snapped her fingers with the precision of a metronome. | She called the group to attention. “All right guys, let’s go!” Nurses, bartenders, teachers and financial analysts appeared on the screen, following her through a routine of squats and lunges as she snapped her fingers with the precision of a metronome. |
“Kerry, that’s a beautiful pace!” she said. | “Kerry, that’s a beautiful pace!” she said. |
“Maite, lower your hips an inch.” | “Maite, lower your hips an inch.” |
Ms. Bardell believes in moving quickly so no one has time to dwell on the pain. “You’re in a physically uncomfortable situation right now in your body, and you’re in an emotionally uncomfortable situation in the world,” she said. “And it’s like, we’re going to get through this together, just like we do with every single class.” | Ms. Bardell believes in moving quickly so no one has time to dwell on the pain. “You’re in a physically uncomfortable situation right now in your body, and you’re in an emotionally uncomfortable situation in the world,” she said. “And it’s like, we’re going to get through this together, just like we do with every single class.” |
— Caitlin Dickerson | — Caitlin Dickerson |
12:30 p.m. | 12:30 p.m. |
Ariana Lee, a Chinese student stranded on the campus of Amherst College, walked into a dining hall past a pandemic-era warning sign: “Admittance Restricted.” | Ariana Lee, a Chinese student stranded on the campus of Amherst College, walked into a dining hall past a pandemic-era warning sign: “Admittance Restricted.” |
The food service workers lit up when they saw her. She greeted them brightly. “Hi! Can I get the pulled chicken taco over Mexican rice? And some guac with the salsa, please?” | The food service workers lit up when they saw her. She greeted them brightly. “Hi! Can I get the pulled chicken taco over Mexican rice? And some guac with the salsa, please?” |
These days, with classes now online, campus feels like a ghost town. In her one-minute walk to the dining hall, Ms. Lee, a senior, encountered only one other person, a janitor pushing a cart full of cleaning supplies across the common room, like a lone ship leaning into a storm. | These days, with classes now online, campus feels like a ghost town. In her one-minute walk to the dining hall, Ms. Lee, a senior, encountered only one other person, a janitor pushing a cart full of cleaning supplies across the common room, like a lone ship leaning into a storm. |
The servers wore gloves, but no masks. The open cereal dispensers stood empty. The cafeteria tables were cordoned off. | The servers wore gloves, but no masks. The open cereal dispensers stood empty. The cafeteria tables were cordoned off. |
The food was tastier than it was before the pandemic, she said, but the portions were smaller. She preferred not to pick up food in town, though, because “people on the street say racist things.” The other day, a man called her Chinese-American friend a racial expletive and said that wearing a mask would not help. | The food was tastier than it was before the pandemic, she said, but the portions were smaller. She preferred not to pick up food in town, though, because “people on the street say racist things.” The other day, a man called her Chinese-American friend a racial expletive and said that wearing a mask would not help. |
Her parents have left Beijing and are riding out a two-week quarantine in a small apartment in Hong Kong. They have to wear trackers on their wrists. Food is delivered to their door. Her mother sprays down every package with disinfectant. | Her parents have left Beijing and are riding out a two-week quarantine in a small apartment in Hong Kong. They have to wear trackers on their wrists. Food is delivered to their door. Her mother sprays down every package with disinfectant. |
Ms. Lee walked back to her dorm room, unpacked her brown paper bag and laid out her food on her desk: two bananas, an orange, a cardboard bowl of rice, a cardboard box of chicken tacos. She looked at it, as if it were a still-life painting, and did not eat. | Ms. Lee walked back to her dorm room, unpacked her brown paper bag and laid out her food on her desk: two bananas, an orange, a cardboard bowl of rice, a cardboard box of chicken tacos. She looked at it, as if it were a still-life painting, and did not eat. |
— Anemona Hartocollis | — Anemona Hartocollis |
2:04 pm | 2:04 pm |
The milk incident happened right after lunch, when the 8-year-old was losing patience with long division. It was his second tantrum of the day, the first set off by a missing sweatshirt. That one had been pretty loud, but at least it didn’t involve spilling milk all over the dining room table. | The milk incident happened right after lunch, when the 8-year-old was losing patience with long division. It was his second tantrum of the day, the first set off by a missing sweatshirt. That one had been pretty loud, but at least it didn’t involve spilling milk all over the dining room table. |
A home-schooling mother as of two weeks ago, Tanying Dong, 39, has been trying to make sure her oldest son does at least some schoolwork every day. When he is absorbed in a lesson and his little brothers, ages 2 and 5, are nestled in the soft glow of PBS Kids, Ms. Dong can then maybe get to some of the endless other tasks. Such as her paying job, in public law. And the housework. The meals. The checking-in on friends and relatives. | A home-schooling mother as of two weeks ago, Tanying Dong, 39, has been trying to make sure her oldest son does at least some schoolwork every day. When he is absorbed in a lesson and his little brothers, ages 2 and 5, are nestled in the soft glow of PBS Kids, Ms. Dong can then maybe get to some of the endless other tasks. Such as her paying job, in public law. And the housework. The meals. The checking-in on friends and relatives. |
Three boys, at prime havoc age, with no school, no day care, no babysitter, no playgrounds, no friends and, for much of the time, no other adult. | Three boys, at prime havoc age, with no school, no day care, no babysitter, no playgrounds, no friends and, for much of the time, no other adult. |
Amid it all, she has taken up sewing. Specifically, face masks for the whole family. Ms. Dong’s husband is a pediatric anesthesiologist, and while the children’s hospital is not yet a battlefield infirmary like so many urban emergency rooms, things could change quickly. | Amid it all, she has taken up sewing. Specifically, face masks for the whole family. Ms. Dong’s husband is a pediatric anesthesiologist, and while the children’s hospital is not yet a battlefield infirmary like so many urban emergency rooms, things could change quickly. |
The sewing had been going pretty well until the 5-year-old knocked the sewing machine on the floor. Her husband seems to have fixed it. She’ll know tonight when she picks it back up, once the kids are in bed. | The sewing had been going pretty well until the 5-year-old knocked the sewing machine on the floor. Her husband seems to have fixed it. She’ll know tonight when she picks it back up, once the kids are in bed. |
— Campbell Robertson | — Campbell Robertson |
2:49 p.m. | 2:49 p.m. |
Police Officer Chris Allison pulled over a red Chrysler 300 sedan, approached from the passenger side and asked the driver for his license and insurance. The man pulled the papers from his glove compartment and leaned toward the window. But Officer Allison didn’t touch them. | Police Officer Chris Allison pulled over a red Chrysler 300 sedan, approached from the passenger side and asked the driver for his license and insurance. The man pulled the papers from his glove compartment and leaned toward the window. But Officer Allison didn’t touch them. |
He reached instead for his cellphone. | He reached instead for his cellphone. |
“OK, I’m just going to take a picture of that,” Officer Allison told the man. | “OK, I’m just going to take a picture of that,” Officer Allison told the man. |
Officer Allison, 34, patrols southwest Norman, where a stay-at-home order is in effect and four nursing home residents have died from the pandemic. Norman is different now, and so is policing. The most prosaic parts of the job have become potential hazmat situations. | Officer Allison, 34, patrols southwest Norman, where a stay-at-home order is in effect and four nursing home residents have died from the pandemic. Norman is different now, and so is policing. The most prosaic parts of the job have become potential hazmat situations. |
Officers used to sit two to a table for pre-shift briefings at headquarters, but social distancing put an end to roll call. Officers also keep their distance from one another when they go out on calls. On Tuesday, the officer’s lunch got a wipe-down: He used Clorox wipes to disinfect his milkshake, tea and wrapped straws. | Officers used to sit two to a table for pre-shift briefings at headquarters, but social distancing put an end to roll call. Officers also keep their distance from one another when they go out on calls. On Tuesday, the officer’s lunch got a wipe-down: He used Clorox wipes to disinfect his milkshake, tea and wrapped straws. |
At the end of his shift, he used to park his police S.U.V. outside his house, walk inside and hug his wife, 5-year-old daughter and 1-year-old son. Now, he pulls straight into the garage, undresses there, stuffs his uniform into the washing machine, disinfects his equipment and then heads straight for the shower before touching anyone. | At the end of his shift, he used to park his police S.U.V. outside his house, walk inside and hug his wife, 5-year-old daughter and 1-year-old son. Now, he pulls straight into the garage, undresses there, stuffs his uniform into the washing machine, disinfects his equipment and then heads straight for the shower before touching anyone. |
It turned out that the Chrysler’s license plate didn’t match the vehicle. Maybe it was stolen. Maybe the driver hadn’t registered it yet. From the driver’s seat of the S.U.V., the officer asked for backup. Then he readied himself to face the driver again. He reached over to the passenger seat for his blue cloth mask. | It turned out that the Chrysler’s license plate didn’t match the vehicle. Maybe it was stolen. Maybe the driver hadn’t registered it yet. From the driver’s seat of the S.U.V., the officer asked for backup. Then he readied himself to face the driver again. He reached over to the passenger seat for his blue cloth mask. |
— Manny Fernandez | — Manny Fernandez |
4:16 p.m. | 4:16 p.m. |
Kimberley Mitchell, a second-generation funeral director, gathered the grieving family in her office. In the age of social distancing, her only goal was to help them hang on to the tiniest bit of cultural tradition. | Kimberley Mitchell, a second-generation funeral director, gathered the grieving family in her office. In the age of social distancing, her only goal was to help them hang on to the tiniest bit of cultural tradition. |
Ms. Mitchell of Mitchell’s Funeral Home looked into the eyes of the family representative seated across the room. A month ago, she would have placed her hand on the relative’s shoulder as a gesture of comfort. | Ms. Mitchell of Mitchell’s Funeral Home looked into the eyes of the family representative seated across the room. A month ago, she would have placed her hand on the relative’s shoulder as a gesture of comfort. |
On this afternoon, she gently laid out the dizzying, surreal set of safety rules reshaping how America buries its dead. The family settled on a simple half-hour service in the chapel. It has 22 rows of pews — room for seven mourners, a pastor and two staff members. They also decided to hold a memorial service once the country returned to normal. | On this afternoon, she gently laid out the dizzying, surreal set of safety rules reshaping how America buries its dead. The family settled on a simple half-hour service in the chapel. It has 22 rows of pews — room for seven mourners, a pastor and two staff members. They also decided to hold a memorial service once the country returned to normal. |
“It feels something like ‘to be continued’ for some people saying goodbye to their loved ones,” she said. | “It feels something like ‘to be continued’ for some people saying goodbye to their loved ones,” she said. |
Before the crisis, Ms. Mitchell greeted family members reeling from loss with hugs. Now, it was simply too risky. Now mourners had to move through reposing rooms in shifts, one small group at a time. | Before the crisis, Ms. Mitchell greeted family members reeling from loss with hugs. Now, it was simply too risky. Now mourners had to move through reposing rooms in shifts, one small group at a time. |
It was jarring. And exhausting. And unmooring. | It was jarring. And exhausting. And unmooring. |
But Ms. Mitchell still had her smile and her words. She could still offer hope and the promise of healing by reciting from the 30th chapter of Psalms — “joy cometh in the morning.” | But Ms. Mitchell still had her smile and her words. She could still offer hope and the promise of healing by reciting from the 30th chapter of Psalms — “joy cometh in the morning.” |
“The hardest thing is to see someone grieving alone,” she said. “Think about that. Alone.” | “The hardest thing is to see someone grieving alone,” she said. “Think about that. Alone.” |
— Audra D.S. Burch | — Audra D.S. Burch |
5:01 p.m. | 5:01 p.m. |
Dr. Steven Demetropoulos had been seeing patients since 7:10 a.m. He was tired, but he was also a man on a mission. | Dr. Steven Demetropoulos had been seeing patients since 7:10 a.m. He was tired, but he was also a man on a mission. |
He needed to drive home in his pickup truck so he could quickly change clothes before heading back out, straight to City Hall, where he hoped to convince the Council to enact a curfew. | He needed to drive home in his pickup truck so he could quickly change clothes before heading back out, straight to City Hall, where he hoped to convince the Council to enact a curfew. |
In February, Dr. Demetropoulos became the mayor of Pascagoula, a Gulf Coast city of about 21,000 people. He ran on a platform of economic growth and beautification. | In February, Dr. Demetropoulos became the mayor of Pascagoula, a Gulf Coast city of about 21,000 people. He ran on a platform of economic growth and beautification. |
But now he also makes videos for residents about how to survive the worst public health crisis in decades. “This is Dr. Steve, your mayor,” he tells them, dressed in green scrubs behind the mayor’s desk. | But now he also makes videos for residents about how to survive the worst public health crisis in decades. “This is Dr. Steve, your mayor,” he tells them, dressed in green scrubs behind the mayor’s desk. |
Tomorrow he would make another video, about how droplets spread through the air and why it was important that people stay six feet apart. | Tomorrow he would make another video, about how droplets spread through the air and why it was important that people stay six feet apart. |
His advice is not limited to physical health. | His advice is not limited to physical health. |
“Keep trusting, keep praying,” he said in one video. “We will get through this together.” | “Keep trusting, keep praying,” he said in one video. “We will get through this together.” |
— Rick Rojas | — Rick Rojas |
7 p.m. | 7 p.m. |
Kalee Kamer was in bed, snuggled next to her boyfriend and their cat, Dirtball, participating in a drug recovery meeting streaming on Facebook Live. | Kalee Kamer was in bed, snuggled next to her boyfriend and their cat, Dirtball, participating in a drug recovery meeting streaming on Facebook Live. |
Ms. Kamer — 27 months sober after decades of addiction to heroin, meth, crack and whatever else she could get her hands on — lost her burger-joint waitressing job on March 15. She and her boyfriend, Chris Keeton, who is also in recovery, have cleaned the house so thoroughly it practically gleams. They watch four or five virtual recovery meetings a week. | Ms. Kamer — 27 months sober after decades of addiction to heroin, meth, crack and whatever else she could get her hands on — lost her burger-joint waitressing job on March 15. She and her boyfriend, Chris Keeton, who is also in recovery, have cleaned the house so thoroughly it practically gleams. They watch four or five virtual recovery meetings a week. |
Updated July 23, 2020 | |
In this small city, the center of Ohio’s opioid epidemic, temptation is never far. | In this small city, the center of Ohio’s opioid epidemic, temptation is never far. |
The couple’s gazes are fixed on the Facebook session, hosted by a local drug recovery group called Raw Addiction. | The couple’s gazes are fixed on the Facebook session, hosted by a local drug recovery group called Raw Addiction. |
Kathy Newman, a drug treatment counselor nearly nine years in recovery, urged viewers like Ms. Kamer to stick with the program. Flurries of emojis rose across the screen as viewers cheered in support. | Kathy Newman, a drug treatment counselor nearly nine years in recovery, urged viewers like Ms. Kamer to stick with the program. Flurries of emojis rose across the screen as viewers cheered in support. |
Hundreds of comments appeared in real time — testaments of hope and despair that would, in normal times, be shared face-to-face. | Hundreds of comments appeared in real time — testaments of hope and despair that would, in normal times, be shared face-to-face. |
I’m afraid of picking up the needle again … I need out. | I’m afraid of picking up the needle again … I need out. |
I’m in rehab. | I’m in rehab. |
April 6th will be 18 months clean from shooting up. You guys are such a great inspiration. | April 6th will be 18 months clean from shooting up. You guys are such a great inspiration. |
Ms. Kamer, 32, wrote one: Did 2 years in prison. Haven’t seen my son in 3.5 years, been clean 27 months. He is a huge motivation on why I’m still clean! #goals | Ms. Kamer, 32, wrote one: Did 2 years in prison. Haven’t seen my son in 3.5 years, been clean 27 months. He is a huge motivation on why I’m still clean! #goals |
It was one voice in an ocean. | It was one voice in an ocean. |
I got 31 days. | I got 31 days. |
First time watcher. | First time watcher. |
I am so close to breaking. | I am so close to breaking. |
— Dan Levin | — Dan Levin |
9 p.m. | 9 p.m. |
The schedule promised a matchup between the Los Angeles Dodgers and the Colorado Rockies. But Dodger Stadium is empty, its doors locked shut, and outside, the birds are louder than what is left of traffic in one of America’s most congested cities. | The schedule promised a matchup between the Los Angeles Dodgers and the Colorado Rockies. But Dodger Stadium is empty, its doors locked shut, and outside, the birds are louder than what is left of traffic in one of America’s most congested cities. |
All the familiar faces are somewhere else. The guys hawking T-shirts, the guys selling beers out of coolers, the guys scalping tickets, the women cooking bacon-wrapped hot dogs just before the final uphill into the stadium parking lots, blocked off with signs that now say “No public access.” | All the familiar faces are somewhere else. The guys hawking T-shirts, the guys selling beers out of coolers, the guys scalping tickets, the women cooking bacon-wrapped hot dogs just before the final uphill into the stadium parking lots, blocked off with signs that now say “No public access.” |
Solitary joggers passed by, one after another, under billboards advertising season tickets for a season in limbo. A man in a surgical mask walked his pug. | Solitary joggers passed by, one after another, under billboards advertising season tickets for a season in limbo. A man in a surgical mask walked his pug. |
Alex Wood, the 29-year-old left-hander, was scheduled to pitch for the Dodgers. Right about now, the Rockies would be finishing batting practice, and Mr. Wood would be in the clubhouse going over the game plan with his catcher and pitching coach. Instead, he’s a few hundred miles away in Arizona, crashing at a teammate’s house. He said he was throwing most days, and just trying to maintain “some semblance of sanity.” | Alex Wood, the 29-year-old left-hander, was scheduled to pitch for the Dodgers. Right about now, the Rockies would be finishing batting practice, and Mr. Wood would be in the clubhouse going over the game plan with his catcher and pitching coach. Instead, he’s a few hundred miles away in Arizona, crashing at a teammate’s house. He said he was throwing most days, and just trying to maintain “some semblance of sanity.” |
During what would have been game time, he said, he was doing pretty much what every other American was doing. Eating. Watching television. Sleeping. | During what would have been game time, he said, he was doing pretty much what every other American was doing. Eating. Watching television. Sleeping. |
Mr. Wood counseled patience for frustrated fans. “Let that excitement continue to build,” he said, “and let it loose once we start our season.” | Mr. Wood counseled patience for frustrated fans. “Let that excitement continue to build,” he said, “and let it loose once we start our season.” |
— Tim Arango | — Tim Arango |
11 p.m. | 11 p.m. |
Donna Danahy was sitting on a mattress in a hotel just off the interstate, queasy from the rising waves of dread and uncertainty. | Donna Danahy was sitting on a mattress in a hotel just off the interstate, queasy from the rising waves of dread and uncertainty. |
Ms. Danahy, 58, lost her job as a server at Steak ’n Shake a couple of weeks back when it moved to drive-through only. With that, she lost the income needed to pay the first month’s rent — $600 — on what was supposed to be a new studio apartment. | Ms. Danahy, 58, lost her job as a server at Steak ’n Shake a couple of weeks back when it moved to drive-through only. With that, she lost the income needed to pay the first month’s rent — $600 — on what was supposed to be a new studio apartment. |
A co-worker she had been staying with left town, leaving Ms. Danahy homeless. For several days she parked her 2006 Toyota Camry in a truck stop, drawing down curtains attached with Velcro, sliding a sun visor in the windshield and tucking her 5-foot-1-inch frame into the back seat for a nerve-racking attempt at sleep. Sometimes she closed her eyes and wished she would never wake up. Sometimes she was hard on herself for not securing a more stable existence. | A co-worker she had been staying with left town, leaving Ms. Danahy homeless. For several days she parked her 2006 Toyota Camry in a truck stop, drawing down curtains attached with Velcro, sliding a sun visor in the windshield and tucking her 5-foot-1-inch frame into the back seat for a nerve-racking attempt at sleep. Sometimes she closed her eyes and wished she would never wake up. Sometimes she was hard on herself for not securing a more stable existence. |
“Leading up to this, I felt all this was self-induced; I did this to myself,” she said. | “Leading up to this, I felt all this was self-induced; I did this to myself,” she said. |
The plan had been to move into the new place on April 1. But the landlord told Ms. Danahy she would release her unit if she could not come up with the money by April 14. She was hired for a $13-an-hour job at a grocery store deli but could not start until she got her birth certificate, which was on its way in the mail. | The plan had been to move into the new place on April 1. But the landlord told Ms. Danahy she would release her unit if she could not come up with the money by April 14. She was hired for a $13-an-hour job at a grocery store deli but could not start until she got her birth certificate, which was on its way in the mail. |
A social services organization secured her the hotel room for a week. But what would she do once the week was up? She began to cry. It was hard not to feel vulnerable. She has asthma. She wondered if she would get infected from all the moving around. | A social services organization secured her the hotel room for a week. But what would she do once the week was up? She began to cry. It was hard not to feel vulnerable. She has asthma. She wondered if she would get infected from all the moving around. |
— John Eligon | — John Eligon |
12:40 a.m. | 12:40 a.m. |
Tammy Wiatrowski curled up on a lilac sectional with a writing tray and a floral-patterned journal. | Tammy Wiatrowski curled up on a lilac sectional with a writing tray and a floral-patterned journal. |
She has been writing in it since early March, after working 57 hours over four days as a charge nurse in a critical care unit. It had dealt with the first spate of the nation’s deaths, a crunch of supplies, quarantined employees and a dire uncertainty. | She has been writing in it since early March, after working 57 hours over four days as a charge nurse in a critical care unit. It had dealt with the first spate of the nation’s deaths, a crunch of supplies, quarantined employees and a dire uncertainty. |
“As the weekend went on and more patients lost their battle with the virus, I realized both my daughters and all 5 of my grandkids could get this and might not survive.” | “As the weekend went on and more patients lost their battle with the virus, I realized both my daughters and all 5 of my grandkids could get this and might not survive.” |
She told her daughters that weekend that it might be months before they could spend time together. Her home has been quiet ever since. No slumber parties. The Nerf guns sit unused. The video game console is off. Ms. Wiatrowski has instead gone shopping, leaving groceries at her daughter’s doorstep and stepping back. | She told her daughters that weekend that it might be months before they could spend time together. Her home has been quiet ever since. No slumber parties. The Nerf guns sit unused. The video game console is off. Ms. Wiatrowski has instead gone shopping, leaving groceries at her daughter’s doorstep and stepping back. |
“Only to be able to wave as she opened the door. Telling them ‘I love them!’ My grandson saying, ‘It’s OK, Granny, I can give you an invisible hug!’ as he stretched his arms out …” | “Only to be able to wave as she opened the door. Telling them ‘I love them!’ My grandson saying, ‘It’s OK, Granny, I can give you an invisible hug!’ as he stretched his arms out …” |
For the first time in 14 years, her job has distanced her from the ones she loves. It is the same for her patients. | For the first time in 14 years, her job has distanced her from the ones she loves. It is the same for her patients. |
Ms. Wiatrowski cannot bring families in to hold hands during the last breaths. She cannot wrap her arms around those who are in grief. She cannot help them get a talisman, like a lock of hair or an EKG strip. | Ms. Wiatrowski cannot bring families in to hold hands during the last breaths. She cannot wrap her arms around those who are in grief. She cannot help them get a talisman, like a lock of hair or an EKG strip. |
“I can’t even give them a piece of paper with their heartbeat without feeling like it’s contaminated. Now everything feels contaminated.” | “I can’t even give them a piece of paper with their heartbeat without feeling like it’s contaminated. Now everything feels contaminated.” |
— Mike Baker | — Mike Baker |
1 a.m. | 1 a.m. |
In the manner of academic scientists during normal times, at the end of a day that was light years from normal, Enrique Lin Shiao led with the data. | In the manner of academic scientists during normal times, at the end of a day that was light years from normal, Enrique Lin Shiao led with the data. |
Never mind that the prestigious University of California, Berkeley, biology laboratory where he is a postdoctoral fellow was shuttered for regular research studies. Or that Dr. Lin Shiao, 31, was presenting his results to disembodied colleagues in a Slack channel as he ate dinner. | Never mind that the prestigious University of California, Berkeley, biology laboratory where he is a postdoctoral fellow was shuttered for regular research studies. Or that Dr. Lin Shiao, 31, was presenting his results to disembodied colleagues in a Slack channel as he ate dinner. |
What mattered was that providing the data to the Food and Drug Administration was a prerequisite for clearance to perform much-needed clinical tests for the new coronavirus. | What mattered was that providing the data to the Food and Drug Administration was a prerequisite for clearance to perform much-needed clinical tests for the new coronavirus. |
And the data was good. | And the data was good. |
“Awesome work,” typed Jennifer Doudna, a Berkeley professor who runs the Innovative Genomics Institute, as she studied Dr. Lin Shiao’s graphs from her living room. | “Awesome work,” typed Jennifer Doudna, a Berkeley professor who runs the Innovative Genomics Institute, as she studied Dr. Lin Shiao’s graphs from her living room. |
The dearth of tests available to Americans who may be infected has anguished molecular biologists, whose research routinely invokes the basic procedure used to detect virus genes in a patient’s nasal swab. | The dearth of tests available to Americans who may be infected has anguished molecular biologists, whose research routinely invokes the basic procedure used to detect virus genes in a patient’s nasal swab. |
Dr. Doudna, the co-developer of a gene-editing tool called CRISPR, has transformed the first floor of her institute into a testing center that aims to process at least 1,000 samples a day. But first, the group needed to show the F.D.A. the lowest level of virus its test could detect. | Dr. Doudna, the co-developer of a gene-editing tool called CRISPR, has transformed the first floor of her institute into a testing center that aims to process at least 1,000 samples a day. But first, the group needed to show the F.D.A. the lowest level of virus its test could detect. |
As some of Dr. Lin Shiao’s colleagues appended congratulatory “clapping” and “on fire” icons to the charts that indicated the test was highly sensitive, others looked ahead, to when they would begin again. | As some of Dr. Lin Shiao’s colleagues appended congratulatory “clapping” and “on fire” icons to the charts that indicated the test was highly sensitive, others looked ahead, to when they would begin again. |
— Amy Harmon | — Amy Harmon |
5 a.m. | 5 a.m. |
The sky over Central Park was slate gray, with pinpoints of stars dim amid the city’s stubborn glow. | The sky over Central Park was slate gray, with pinpoints of stars dim amid the city’s stubborn glow. |
The East Meadow, its lush grass preserved by fences and “Keep Off” signs for an anticipated summer of sun tanning and picnics, was instead bathed in a sea of white medical tents brought by truck from North Carolina to aid the city’s overwhelmed hospitals. | The East Meadow, its lush grass preserved by fences and “Keep Off” signs for an anticipated summer of sun tanning and picnics, was instead bathed in a sea of white medical tents brought by truck from North Carolina to aid the city’s overwhelmed hospitals. |
The tents — 14 in all — were empty, save for 68 portable metal beds, neatly laid with identical white sheets and pillows. | The tents — 14 in all — were empty, save for 68 portable metal beds, neatly laid with identical white sheets and pillows. |
Samaritan’s Purse, a Christian charity, drove in its own supplies. Once the field hospital gets final administrative approval from health department officials to operate, the city will supply the patients. | Samaritan’s Purse, a Christian charity, drove in its own supplies. Once the field hospital gets final administrative approval from health department officials to operate, the city will supply the patients. |
In the I.C.U. tent, there were 10 beds, each accompanied by the most desired piece of medical equipment in the world — a ventilator, which can cost upward of $50,000. | In the I.C.U. tent, there were 10 beds, each accompanied by the most desired piece of medical equipment in the world — a ventilator, which can cost upward of $50,000. |
Samaritan’s Purse has used the same field hospital to treat families stricken by Ebola in Liberia, to care for townspeople who had been trapped in rubble after an earthquake in Ecuador, and to operate on children in Iraq who had been struck by shrapnel launched by the Islamic State. | Samaritan’s Purse has used the same field hospital to treat families stricken by Ebola in Liberia, to care for townspeople who had been trapped in rubble after an earthquake in Ecuador, and to operate on children in Iraq who had been struck by shrapnel launched by the Islamic State. |
A few weeks ago, it set up a similar field hospital in Cremona, Italy, the nation with the world’s most coronavirus fatalities. This is the first time one of the hospitals has been deployed in the United States. No one knows how long a field hospital will be needed in the center of Manhattan. | A few weeks ago, it set up a similar field hospital in Cremona, Italy, the nation with the world’s most coronavirus fatalities. This is the first time one of the hospitals has been deployed in the United States. No one knows how long a field hospital will be needed in the center of Manhattan. |
— Timothy Williams | — Timothy Williams |
6 a.m. | 6 a.m. |
The sky was still dark when the Rev. Rob Lee sat down at his desk, picked up his fountain pen and began to write. | The sky was still dark when the Rev. Rob Lee sat down at his desk, picked up his fountain pen and began to write. |
Even in normal times, Mr. Lee, 27, is an early riser. But in the weeks since a pandemic put an end to all routines, including Sunday church, he has been waking up earlier and earlier, no need for an alarm. | Even in normal times, Mr. Lee, 27, is an early riser. But in the weeks since a pandemic put an end to all routines, including Sunday church, he has been waking up earlier and earlier, no need for an alarm. |
He thinks about his congregation of about 50 regulars and the “collective pain” shared across the world right now. He thinks about his wife, who lost hours at her marketing job. He thinks about his mother, a hospice nurse. And, if he is being honest, he thinks about himself, his own mortality. A year and a half ago, a lung collapsed during an asthma attack, leaving him especially vulnerable to the outbreak. | He thinks about his congregation of about 50 regulars and the “collective pain” shared across the world right now. He thinks about his wife, who lost hours at her marketing job. He thinks about his mother, a hospice nurse. And, if he is being honest, he thinks about himself, his own mortality. A year and a half ago, a lung collapsed during an asthma attack, leaving him especially vulnerable to the outbreak. |
A few weeks ago, as the crisis intensified, he issued an online callout for prayer requests and offered to send handwritten letters in return. So far, he has received more than 300: | A few weeks ago, as the crisis intensified, he issued an online callout for prayer requests and offered to send handwritten letters in return. So far, he has received more than 300: |
I am alone in California and far from family. | I am alone in California and far from family. |
I just lost my job today. | I just lost my job today. |
I feel lonely and unsettled in these times. | I feel lonely and unsettled in these times. |
Mr. Lee, a descendant of General Robert E. Lee who once made headlines for speaking out against white supremacy and Confederate monuments, sees the current crisis as another pivotal moment for the country. | Mr. Lee, a descendant of General Robert E. Lee who once made headlines for speaking out against white supremacy and Confederate monuments, sees the current crisis as another pivotal moment for the country. |
Writing back to the supplicants has become both a grounding ritual to calm his own anxieties — and a small act of resistance. | Writing back to the supplicants has become both a grounding ritual to calm his own anxieties — and a small act of resistance. |
“It’s a sense of, we’re going to show up,” he said. “The coronavirus is terrible, but it’s not the fullness of who we are as a people. It’s not the end of our story.” | “It’s a sense of, we’re going to show up,” he said. “The coronavirus is terrible, but it’s not the fullness of who we are as a people. It’s not the end of our story.” |
— Sarah Mervosh | — Sarah Mervosh |