On This Day Four Years Ago…

When we talk about what it was like living in America during the time of covid, I think a lot of it feels like a fever dream. Or, at least it does to me.

In March of 2020, there was posting about contract jobs across the country, asking for help in areas where the virus was hitting the hardest. One of these places was NYC. I had been to New York plenty of time as a family friend live down the block from the Empire State Building and was always looking to spend time with us, but this would be experiencing something brand new. I had always wanted to live in New York, and the posting said that it would provide housing. And there was an added bonus of escaping the troubling relationship I was in at the time, so I decided to take it. So I packed up what I needed, provided my information, let my job in my home city know that I was taking a contract job and then I was on my way. I settled into a tiny apartment that only had enough room for a twin sized bed and had a bathroom and shower that was shared with the other two units on the floor. It was cramped and reminded me in many way of a coffin, but I didn’t mind it. I was going to be helping people.

I was stationed with Hook & Ladder 8. If you’re an avid fan of the original Ghostbusters movies, you’ll recognize that firehouse. And I was lucky enough to join their crew for awhile.

Working in NYC during covid was one of the hardest and most rewarding times of my life. More then that, it was interesting to see “the city that never sleeps” seem like it was actually sleeping. I remember driving through Time Square and it was lacking its normal crowd of people. It looked like a ghost town in neon lights. It was eerie. But deeper than covid, NYC experienced some of the most graphic riots in May of 2020.

Following the death of George Floyd, New York City erupted into a haze of riots, violence, and cries for justice.

I remember being stationed nearby all the violence, ready to step in and help whoever was hurt.

I can still remember the smell of burning tires, and the sounds of the crowd yelling over the sounds of police telling them to comply. I can still remember helping a police officer with his riot gear and how he helped me put on a bullet proof vest, something that I had never done before. I remember getting yelled at and being called every name in the book because I was standing by the police. I couldn’t have an opinion on the matter, I was there to do my job. I remember how scared I was when I first heard the tired popping from the heat, I thought they were gunshots. The partner I had with me could see that I was scared and made sure to position himself in front of me, but I knew he was scared too. He told me that if anything were to happen, we get to the rig and we get away. “We can’t help people if we’re dead.” I remember a police officer coming up to me, he had someone with him that he was arresting. I remember the police officer was bleeding profusely from a cut above his eye, but he made me check out the young man he had with him first. I remember seeing all the faces, filled with anger and hate and wondering how we got to that point.

We were in one of the most unprecedented times in history. Curfews were being implemented in the city for the first time since 1943. We were in lock down. I was supposed to be helping people get to the hospital and get the help they needed, but there I was, standing behind my partner in a bulletproof vest. The night was illuminated by the fires and the only thing I could hear was voices yelling in the night. It was confusing. Nothing made sense. And to this day, I get anxious in places with lots of people.

It wouldn’t be until the morning of the next day that we would start to get answers.

345 arrests were made. 33 police officers were injured. 47 police vehicles had been damaged.

It was hard to wrap my head around.

I was told that I would have to start wearing a bullet proof vest every time I went on a call because people were associating emergency medical workers with the police and several of them had been shot at. It was scary to think that every time I left the safety of the firehouse, I was risking my life in what felt like an active war zone. I wanted justice for the man that was brutally murdered. I think every one watched the footage and it was hard to watch. It was hard to watch a man beg for his life and beg to breathe. But I also wanted to be able to help people without having to worry about if the person I was trying to help was trying to trick me so they could shoot me. It was a strange mix of emotions.

When I look at these pictures now, it’s hard to think about the fact that this was a real thing that happened. That this was something I was present for. And it’s just a reminder of how much we as a human race went through in those few years.