Big Apple becomes ghost city
Landing at JFK just a fortnight ago, I was preparing myself for a shift at the restaurant where I work part-time that evening. The sun was out, and so were the people, drinking wine and making the most of the pre-spring weather.
Fast forward to today as I write from home. The restaurant has closed, my laid-off partner is trying to find freelance work, and our roommate’s dog, whose thrice-daily outings feel almost like walks of shame, is snoring on a mat.
There are no screaming kids outside, because the school across the road is closed like all others. We’re inside, like most people in our building, neighbourhood and city.
Our supermarket is nearly always out of bread, toilet paper, disinfectant wipes and rice as people fill their baskets while the shelves are being restocked. All our local businesses are closed or closing.
On Sunday, a huge number of the city’s 300,000 restaurant workers were laid off, and many are now without any form of income. It’s just one industry having to lay off staff because of the effects of this pandemic.
Gyms and movie theatres are closed. Broadway, the Met – all our cultural institutions have shut down, and tourist spots are empty.
The unemployment website has been overwhelmed and continues to crash after seeing a 65 per cent increase in claims between this Monday and last. But that benefit is available only to those who qualify, which doesn’t include the estimated 560,000 undocumented workers in the city.
Rent is due in two weeks, and hundreds of thousands of people who work without paid leave or benefits in one of the most expensive cities in the world are going to have to face up to their landlords.
It’s likely that New Yorkers will be ordered to ‘‘shelter in place’’, stopping all non-essential travel, and closing stores that aren’t pharmacies, supermarkets or health services. But no-one really knows what’s going to happen.
A negligent and confused response early on from the federal, state and city governments was reflected in a confused city. Questions and tensions arose over whether we should be going out to support local businesses. Working from home if possible? Stocking up and preparing to be isolated for weeks or months? No-one knew – and the panic buying began.
It was only late last week, as cases in New York State escalated to now having the county’s most, at 1500, that aggressive measures were put in place to slow the spread of the virus. And it was really only on Monday that President Trump changed his tone after initial skepticism.
As the crisis is grinding New York City to a halt, it is exposing how poorly equipped we are to deal with this, and how eroded support systems are for the working class.
It is still the creative, opinionated, loud and tough city I love, and we’re not just seeing that online with people’s efforts to entertain kids out of school, collect money for those out of work, and generally make some light in the situation, but with the workers still getting on the subway and going to work, stocking shelves, looking after the sick and trying to keep the city running as best as they can. But with so much uncertainty about anything, there is a palpable anxiety in a city that is all but frozen.
New York is a strong place made up of resilient, hard-working people, and I have no doubt that we’ll weather this together, but we’re all waiting to see what tomorrow will bring as we sit glued to our screens in our tiny apartments, occasionally looking out the window.
‘‘It was only late last week . . . that aggressive measures were put in place
. . . There isa palpable anxiety in a city that is all but frozen.’’ Anna BradleySmith, former Nelson Mail reporter