Faces Of Coronavirus: Stories That Broke Our Hearts, Gave Us Hope

LONG ISLAND, NY — Sitting on New Year's Eve, reflecting on the past year, it's hard, even for a writer, to put into words how profoundly we've all been impacted by the past 12 months.

As a reporter covering the pandemic, the coronavirus hit like a veritable tornado. On March 8, the first case of COVID-19 was reported in Suffolk County, on the East End. From that first day, almost 10 months ago, we've all been plunged into a reality none of us were equipped for, left in the dark, struggling to find the light and a way forward.

As a mother whose son lives across the country, the drumbeat of fear began on March 8 and has never lessened in its intensity; ever-present, it's a gray blanket of worry that covers all that I do and say, every day. But as a reporter, it is our job to go forward, to lead the way with facts and information, no matter how frightened or uncertain we may be feeling.

The year was marked by so many press briefings. Every day like clockwork, those elected officials showed up with the information our readers needed — for so long, we all collectively hung on every word, every statistic, the daily numbers. That information, it was a lifeline, truly, for us all.

Once the first frenzied days passed, it was the stories, the brave men and women who stepped forward to chronicle their experiences, that meant everything. Reporters are objective, yes, but there are stories that stay with us, deeply woven into our hearts and memories, stories that stay with us for the rest of our lives.

I will remember forever the nurse who was with John Carroll, of Hampton Bays, in the final moments of his life. John died after battling COVID-19 and that caring nurse reached out to his family, to reassure them that he did not die alone.

"I want you to know that I know how difficult it must have been for you and your family to not be able to come in to say good-bye in person," she wrote. "But I also want you and your family to know that I was there for your dad, your brother, your son, your cousin, your friend. I want you to know that he heard you — all of you — and he heard all of your conversations and all of your good-byes. He did not pass away alone. I was with him the whole time, during his final moments. I held his hand and told him it was going to be okay. I want you to know he was comfortable and at peace. He did not suffer during his final moments."

When Ray Pickersgill, a longtime light in the Riverhead community, died after battling COVID-19, hearts were broken and friends, family and the many whose lives he touched as he worked to revitalize downtown shared memories and tributes. For so many, the fact that Ray, a "force" for Riverhead, could be lost to the pandemic seemed too unbelievably painful to bear. Recently, a memorial was held in Riverhead to celebrate his bright light and legacy.

So many stories of unthinkable loss. Edward and Joan Porco, who lived at Peconic Landing in Greenport, were married 43 years. Longtime lovebirds I'd interviewed a few years earlier for a Valentine's Day story, they died just days apart.

The loss was staggering for their family, including their daughter, Julia Chachere, a certified nurse midwife and nurse practitioner from Sag Harbor who moved her practice to Cutchogue in recent years to care for her mother, who had Alzheimer's.

"There's such a huge hole," Chachere said. "Not to be able to be there with them while they were dying was inconceivable."

Of her parents, who traveled the world together, Chachere said, "They were soul partners. They journeyed so far and wide— I guess they did this last one together, as well."

But for all the staggering grief, there were so many stories of hope. Stories that proved, time and time again, that confronted with the unthinkable, the human spirit struggles to rise up. And if there is one thing I learned from this year of the pandemic, it is that during the worst of times, the best in people shines through in ways more beautiful than anyone could ever have imagined.

Take Kelly Motiero, director of nursing at San Simeon by the Sound Center for Nursing, Rehabilitation & Adult Day Health Care, in Greenport who packed her bags, headed to a hotel nearby and didn't leave or go home for months as she works to keep her patients safe — and to keep the facility COVID free.

Although the distance wasn't easy, Moteiro said she felt she set an example for her daughter — and for her staff. "I wouldn't ask them for this kind of commitment if I wasn't prepared to do the same thing myself," she said. She led by example — and her staff was amazing, she said, doing double duty to make sure San Simeon ran smoothly, residents were soothed and cared for — and the coronavirus was kept far from its doors.

Lenore Friedman of Merrick, who spent eight weeks battling the virus at Peconic Bay Medical Center in Riverhead, credits her survival to CNA Dani Foskey, who she said saved her life with a can-do spirit that refused to let her give up.

"Dani is probably a saint and let me tell you why," she said. "Ask anybody in the hospital; I was out of it. I had gotten to the point where I wasn't even going to try anymore. But she's a toughie. She sat in that chair and leaned back like a police officer and said, 'You're going to get up and you're going to walk. You're going to do this. I'll walk with you, but you're going to do this.' She motivated me. And not with 'honey, sweetie, darlings.' She made me get up and made me do what I needed to do. And then, she'd put her arms around me and say, 'It's going to be okay.'"

Foskey, she said, "gave me the inspiration to live. I love her."

Front line workers at hospitals who worked tirelessly for hours in their crusade to save lives became heroes in the battle. They still found the strength within to join arms and hearts and dance together, truly, living on a prayer and finding support in one another and in the thankful community.

In times of strife, neighbors and friends became true angels. So many stepped up to help those waging the war, raising funds and making thousands of lunches to help nourish them, every single day for weeks. Wendy Zuhoski of Wendy's Deli in Mattituck made more than 150 food deliveries to front line workers.

"I would do it again in one split second. It was the most rewarding work I have ever done," Zuhoski said.

And for all the sadness, all the loss, all the paralyzing pain, there were stories of true hope. Of the closest thing to miracles we will see in our collective lifetimes — such as the story of Barbara and Teddy Szczotka, married 61 years and high school sweethearts who both survived the coronavirus and were welcomed home with grateful arms by their loving family.

Her mother, before she left for the hospital, told her daughter Karen, "'You might lose both your parents from this.' And I said, 'No, I will not. You're going to fight this.'"

Barbara and Teddy, Karen said, are grateful to have survived. "After realizing how sick they were, they were so happy. They've seen others who have gone through it, and their stories are so sad, and they say, 'We are so lucky that we made it.'"

So many stories, so much pain. And so very, very much love. Facing the reality that all could be lost, we've come together to celebrate all that we have and to really appreciate the ones who make bring meaning and love to our lives.

Yes, we've all had to learn to Zoom. We've learned to eat holiday dinners together on FaceTime. We've had to don masks and wear gloves and stand six feet apart. We've had to navigate a frightening new terrain marked by curves and pitfalls. But we've done it and we've done it together. Nothing can break that invincible spirit. And as a reporter and a member of this steadfast community, I am so grateful every day to have the honor of telling the stories of these amazing lives.

Happy New Year, to all of you. Whatever the future brings, we will face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart.