Living through a pandemic
These are the stories of the worries, hopes and fears of Texans during the crisis
Circus performer. Harris County jailer. Flight attendant. Chaplain at Memorial Hermann. Indefatigable lady legendary for taking METRO buses everywhere. Recent federal parolee tethered to an ankle monitor in Beaumont.
What do they all have in common? Same thing we all do right now. Living through a pandemic.
Many are coming together over shared experiences during this COVID-19 crisis: the boredom of home quarantine, the dwindling of savings, the fear of someone we love getting sick.
Yet, this moment requires something else from us, empathy. Let’s take this opportunity to look beyond our own circumstances to see how the lives of others in our community are altered by this historic event. And how, with strength, patience or humor, they’re getting by.
Behind every pair of eyes is a story no one else can see. Here’s a window.
The friendly skies
Half the world’s planes are sitting idle and passenger traffic is down more than 95 percent. As the coronavirus outbreak grew, flight attendant Deborah Gee, 53, could see its impact unfold on her usual Sydney route.
It was high season in early February. Yet more and more seats became vacant. By early March, the only people flying to Houston were luxury cruise ship passengers diverted on their way to Asia.
Overnight, coach was emptied, and first class was full of people wearing their Hermès scarves as makeshift masks, Gee says in her soft English accent, sanded down after years of living in Texas.
Her last regular flight was on March 21, marked by a lavatory harbinger of how things were deteriorating.
During the 17-hour journey to Sydney the flight crew usually replenishes bathroom supplies several times. They had just done a check before starting breakfast service when a passenger approached them saying there was no more toilet paper.
“We all went, ‘what?’ and sure enough. The rolls were not empty, they were gone,” Gee says.
The flight back to Houston was canceled and she made her way home six days later through San Francisco.
Since then, she’s flown sporadically. Walking through desolate airport terminals and adjusting to changing safety precautions is the new normal.
Before, the first thing flight attendants did when boarding was to check the emergency equipment. Now, they also reach for gloves and fetch the Clorox wipes. Planes are routinely sterilized and cleaning crews wipe down cabins daily.
Social distancing is not physically possible, so everyone covers faces. Gee still smiles as she greets passengers. They can still see it in her eyes, she says.
No one is flying who doesn’t need to. Passengers are either going home or are on essential business and there is a feeling of solidarity in the air.
“Everybody’s very friendly with each other, very gentle with each other,” she says. “Very quiet.”
After more than 30 years of flying, Gee is getting used to the ground again. She wakes early, takes walks and reads — but there’s no substitute for the sky.
“We want people to fly again,” she says. “We don’t want to all be sitting at home like this.”