The Corona Diaries: Day Seventeen

When she was two years of age, Niko stood in front of her grandmother Babu’s window and asked, “Where are all the people?” At the time, this question made sense because she was on a hilltop in Virginia and there were no people outside. 

Today, as I walk the streets of Brooklyn, there are few people outside, and it makes no sense. Of course, logic and science dictate that this is what we must do, and thank God, the streets are empty because New Yorkers are taking this situation seriously. But in my lifetime, there has never been anything like this.

Perhaps the Blackout of ’77 was the first time I experienced New Yorkers, as a collective, going through this experience together. I was 12 and it was formative, especially since I had been hanging out in the Village – yes, these were different times – and had to walk home the 80 blocks to 84th Street.

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/07/14/nyregion/1977-blackout-photos.html

Then there was 9/11, a time for which I cannot come up with any words. I can simply say that we feared together. The difference was that in our collective grief, we came together outdoors in places such as Prospect Park. New Yorkers desperately needed nature and each other.

Today, a man walks with his hands behind his back. A woman strolls with her hands in her pockets. This is not how New Yorkers walk. They have no phones in their hands and no urgency in their steps. They resemble characters in Victorian tales, when strolling was an art form. Is it possible that this pandemic has achieved the unthinkable and forced New Yorkers to slow down?

A friend reports that lower Park Avenue is closed to traffic in Manhattan, in order to allow pedestrians more space to distance from one another. Indeed, in Brooklyn I walk Milo down the middle of the street as if it is mine. There are no cars.

Much has been written about walking in New York. Alfred Kazin’s A Walker in the City, his memoir of growing up in Brownsville, comes to mind. Then there is William Helmreich, who, as a child, played a game with this father called “Last Stop,” where they boarded a subway and headed to the end of the line to explore new neighborhoods. 

Sadly, Mr. Helmreich, a distinguished professor of sociology at City College and the CUNY Graduate Center died this week as a result of the coronavirus.