Coronaversary: Reflections on Life and Loss in Minnesota, Four Years Ago
The Commencement of the Pandemic Experience
When did the pandemic commence for you?
As time progresses, the vivid details of March 2020 begin to soften and dissipate.
The desolate streets. The overflowing ICUs. Stores stripped bare of toilet paper, sanitizers, and masks. The evening cacophony of neighbors clanging pots and pans in appreciation of the healthcare workers.
The anxiety. The isolation. The confinement. The quest for the most catchy tune to hum while diligently washing our hands, hoping to eradicate a virus we couldn’t cure and could scarcely treat. (“Is this the sound of uncertainty?”)
Then, precisely four years ago this week, the news broke that Tom Hanks had contracted COVID-19. If the virus could infiltrate Tom Hanks, it could infiltrate any of us.
For me, the pandemic commenced with a simple Post-It note.
I swiftly gathered my laptop, affixed a “social distancing” reminder on the screen, and retreated to my modest abode in Loring Park, envisaging a brief respite until the air cleared and the virus subsided.
Encountering a friend in the skyway, we exchanged awkward gestures. Before the memory completely dissipates, let’s recall the time when we hesitated to shake hands, fearing it might be a lethal gesture. The uncertainty was pervasive. No one had answers.
If time travel were plausible, I would abstain. March 2020 was fraught with challenges on the initial go-around. However, if I were to venture back, I would impart two cautionary messages.
Firstly, that panicked purchase of a Costco membership will not facilitate the acquisition of toilet paper.
Secondly, beyond Tom Hanks falling ill, graver tribulations await. The tragic demise of George Floyd. The upheaval in Minneapolis. The orchestrated insurrection at the Capitol by Donald Trump’s supporters in a bid to overturn the election results. The staggering death toll of 7 million due to COVID-19.
Minnesota declared a state of emergency on March 13. Let’s cherish the collective efforts made to safeguard one another. The individuals who remained indoors. Those who adapted to remote work and education, adept at exuding enthusiasm during virtual celebrations and gatherings. Neighbors who organized scavenger hunts to alleviate boredom.
Some delved into baking sourdough bread. Others explored new hobbies. A few honed their skills in crafting cloth masks. Productivity levels varied.
Occasionally, I would sit on the balcony, enveloped in the reverberating sounds of drag racing echoing through the sparsely populated streets, heightening everyone’s unease. Remarkably, certain individuals managed to exacerbate the impact of a deadly global pandemic on society.
They know who they are.
Yet, four years ago, akin to the present day, the majority endeavored to support one another.
The educators navigating virtual classrooms. The resilient small businesses. The patrons purchasing gift cards they couldn’t redeem, ensuring their favorite eateries received a modest influx of revenue. The companions, relatives, and online acquaintances who uplifted spirits during moments when the pandemic thwarted travel plans, weddings, and the 2020 Minnesota State Fair.
If a voyage back to 2020 were feasible— which it unequivocally is not— I would express to most individuals the immense pride we would eventually feel for the collective resilience displayed during those challenging times.