Covid City – Winnipeg Free Press

Rudiak says business dropped significantly initially, but then people turned to cakes for comfort. (John Woods / Winnipeg Free Press)

5 a.m.

3 minute read Saturday, May. 9, 2020

On a block of south Osborne Street where shuttered businesses outnumber the open ones, Chocolate Zen bakery glows in the slate-grey early morning light like a beacon of comfort.

Inside the tiny bakery, co-owner Barbara Rudiak is getting organized for another day of cake- and pastry-making.

Her pastry chef partners — Betty Lai and Douglas Krahn — will be in a bit later but there are still orders to process, events to prioritize and calls to return. Even in the economic ruin of a pandemic shutdown, it seems that just about everyone can make room for some cake.

“It’s comfort food, right?” Rudiak says. “At a time like this, we need all the comfort we can get.”

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3 a.m.

2 minute read Preview

3 a.m.

2 minute read Saturday, May. 9, 2020

“That initial couple of weeks, most of the conversations were COVID, COVID, COVID.”

Carla Chornoby has worked at Klinic Community Health for 17 years. The office where she works the overnight shift answering the phone as a crisis counsellor is small and unassuming.

The room is dark, with soft lighting to counteract the glow of computer screens.

Behind cubicles, trained counsellors seek to lend support to people who call in need; to hopefully have a meaningful conversation that ends in “somebody feeling better,” as Chornoby puts it.

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Saturday, May. 9, 2020

The number of calls to the Klinic crisis line has increased in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic. (John Woods / Winnipeg Free Press)

Midnight

3 minute read Preview

Midnight

3 minute read Saturday, May. 9, 2020

A young woman’s laughter punctuates an otherwise quiet scene as Tuesday turns to Wednesday near a downtown bus stop at Vaughan Street and Graham Avenue.

A bus arrives and she is gone, leaving a handful of other Winnipeg Transit riders to wait, their faces illuminated by cellphones, across from the looming edifice of the Hudson’s Bay Company. Even the venerable downtown landmark is a few years too young to recall a time quite like this.

COVID-19 has spurred a precipitous drop in bus ridership, forcing schedule reductions this week.

A No. 10 bus appears. Amber-coloured messaging calls out with a social-distancing reminder. St. Boniface beckons.

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Saturday, May. 9, 2020

People wait for their bus to arrive at the Graham Avenue bus stop in downtown Winnipeg just after midnight Wednesday. (Mike Deal / Winnipeg Free Press)

10 p.m.

3 minute read Preview

10 p.m.

3 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

The moon is full in the northeast corner of the city and, as another day winds down, six-week-old Henry Sulkers is nowhere near ready for bed.

"Yep, this is what we usually do at this time of day," says first-time mother Dawn McDonald as she cradles her tiny newborn.

Her baby, a bright-eyed "night owl" with a perfectly round bald head, arrived March 23 after a planned caesarean section. The coronavirus had just been declared a pandemic; no visitors were allowed during their two-day stay at the recently opened HSC Women's Hospital.

Since then, Henry spends his days breastfeeding, wetting his diaper and sleeping. Oh, and he's managed to squeeze in a FaceTime call or two with his first-time grandparents in the western Manitoba community of Strathclair.

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Dawn McDonald and her six-week-old son, Henry Sulkers, in their home in Winnipeg on Wednesday. (Mikaela MacKenzie / Winnipeg Free Press)

7 p.m.

3 minute read Preview

7 p.m.

3 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Salvador Tait is perfecting his D-minor scale.

Normally, the eight-year-old's piano teacher, Madeline Hildebrand, would sit next to him, gently correcting his wrist placement or pointing to his music. But these are not normal times, and this is not a normal piano lesson.

Golden-hour sunlight streams into Hildebrand's tiny second-floor porch, where she has set up her keyboard. Instead of sheet music, her red music stand houses an open laptop.

Salvador, meanwhile, is at home on the upright in his family's living room. This evening's lesson is taking place over Zoom.

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Piano instructor Madeline Hildebrand teaches a virtual class to Salvador Tait in her home. (John Woods / Winnipeg Free Press)

11 p.m.

3 minute read Preview

11 p.m.

3 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

At the corner of Portage Avenue and Colony Street, Perry Squires and Joel Hildebrand check on a half-dozen or so people who are hanging out in a bus shack late at night.

Instead of opening the door to ask if everyone is OK, the Downtown Watch ambassadors are forced to do the job behind a sheet of glass. Communicating through a window has become the new norm.

"Is everyone all right in there?" Hildebrand asks after knocking on the glass bus shelter to get everyone's attention.

There's an unresponsive man inside on a bench. Squires knocks and asks the lady next to the man to wake him up. She gives him a nudge and the man half-heartedly raises his head and waves off the men in red uniforms. Squires and Hildebrand nod and keep on walking.

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Downtown Watch ambassador Joel Hildebrand (left) and supervisor Perry Squires walk the streets of downtown. (John Woods / Winnipeg Free Press)

9 p.m.

3 minute read Preview

9 p.m.

3 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Three brothers take their seats at a dining-room table laden with food: chicken samosas, saucy chickpeas, lentil fritters, sweet yogurt dumplings, two kinds of pizza, a pitcher of lemonade and jars of dates.

Above them, crisp paper lanterns and strands of shiny, painted salt-dough stars and crescent moons are products of more time spent at home this Ramadan.

At sunset, 8:56 p.m., the family breaks their fast with dates before heeding the call to prayer in their Southdale home.

The boys are first to make it back to the table for the iftar feast, each swooping in for a slice of cheesy pizza topped with halal pepperoni.

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Urooj Danish and her family break their Ramadan fast with prayers and an iftar meal at sundown. (John Woods / Winnipeg Free Press)

2 p.m.

5 minute read Preview

2 p.m.

5 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Clad in sneakers and scrubs, a health-care worker heading to his afternoon shift at Grace Hospital moves with a quick clip through the sliding double doors that lead to the atrium.

His stride, however, is interrupted at a “hard stop” just past the main entrance.

A handful of signs, hand-sanitizer dispensers and a pair of two-metre-long tables pushed together lengthwise form the checkpoint. Two gatekeepers who wear procedure masks and eye shields receive him.

Before he can head to work, he must successfully answer a series of questions. Does he have a fever or chills? A cough? Shortness of breath or headache? How about a sore throat or sore muscles?

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Health-care workers screen every person who enters Grace Hospital. (Mike Deal / Winnipeg Free Press)

Our team

2 minute read Preview

Our team

2 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

A 24-hour project is a huge undertaking. Before the clock struck midnight on May 6, our staff spent many hours arranging and organizing who was going where at what time.

Between midnight on May 6 and midnight on May 7, 25 reporters and five photographers hit the streets to capture Winnipeggers' lives during the pandemic.

Once the calendar flipped over to Thursday, even more hours of editing, design and layout were required — at a breakneck pace — to bring the project to fruition by Friday evening's deadline.

Writers

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

8 p.m.

3 minute read Preview

8 p.m.

3 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

It's 8 p.m. on the nose as the last few stragglers pay for their groceries and trickle out of the Lilac Street Food Fare at closing time.

The small store is quiet now, shelves ravaged from another busy day, but there are still a few packages of toilet paper and Lysol wipes and three small bags of all-purpose flour in stock — a veritable holy trinity of most-wanted items during this pandemic.

Husni Zeid, owner of this location — one of the five Food Fares owned and operated by the Zeid family in Winnipeg — has been in the grocery business his entire life and has never encountered anything quite like the "pandemonium" that occurred when COVID-19 came to town.

"We’ve never seen numbers like this, we’ve never seen products flying off the shelves like this, we’ve never seen empty shelves like this, ever," he says.

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Food Fare owner Husni Zeid, owner, talks with his daughter, Hanan. (Mikaela MacKenzie / Winnipeg Free Press)

11 a.m.

3 minute read Preview

11 a.m.

3 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

There are about 1,500 students at Maples Collegiate, one of Winnipeg’s most populated high schools. Without them, the campus is an ideal backdrop for a horror film.

Lockers are empty. Classrooms are dark. Even the building temperature is colder than usual, having dropped along with the number of sweaty teenagers walking the halls.

Dariusz Piatek, one of the few people here this morning, has come dressed in a sweater and puffy royal blue vest. The veteran mathematician opted to continue working out of Room 213 when classes were suspended indefinitely for Manitoba’s 210,000 K-12 students, owing to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Every weekday morning, Piatek, 53, sets up his devices to livestream Grade 12 pre-calculus. WebEx software allows him to use a webcam and screen-share an interactive whiteboard with his 41 students.

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Longtime Maples Collegiate math teacher Dariusz Piatek does his daily livestream using his laptop video camera and the SmartBoard in his classroom. (Jason Halstead / Winnipeg Free Press)

6 p.m.

3 minute read Preview

6 p.m.

3 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Winnipeg singles know dating can be a minefield at the best of times.

Engaging in the perilous mating ritual during a pandemic in which public-health officials constantly remind strangers to stay at least two metres apart, would seem almost impossible.

But for 29-year-old Leah Borchert, it’s preferable.

“I don’t like being touched until I know someone well," she says. "So this is ideal.”

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Leah Borchert goes on a digital first date with Eddie in her bedroom in Winnipeg. (Mikaela MacKenzie / Winnipeg Free Press)

5 p.m.

2 minute read Preview

5 p.m.

2 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

It’s just after 5 p.m. and a handful of energetic goofballs is enjoying an outdoor playdate downtown, running, roughhousing and slobbering all over the place.

At Bonnycastle dog park, nothing has changed for the carefree canines, who are oblivious to the COVID-19 pandemic wreaking havoc around the world.

For their owners, the off-leash park on Assiniboine Avenue has been a welcome distraction from the pandemic, bringing some much-needed comfort during a difficult and uncertain time.

“I don’t know what I’d do without this place,” says Caroline Nicholson, as she scratches her well-behaved, two-year-old corgi-Rottweiler mix Chichi.

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Brent Lelond’s corgi, Jasper (right) and Ly’s mini golden-doodle, Parmesan, don't concern themselves with social-distancing at the Bonnycastle Dog Park. (Jason Halstead / Winnipeg Free Press)

4 p.m.

3 minute read Preview

4 p.m.

3 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Late in the afternoon at Willow Place family shelter, some residents have begun to gather in the dining room for the first shift of the evening meal.

The room is small. It can only seat a couple of families under normal conditions, but with the shelter’s pandemic precautions and social distancing measures, there is only room for four at a time.

Meals, usually served by staff on washable dishware, are served on paper plates and slid through the kitchen window that is only open a tad. Snacks, usually available throughout day in the kitchen, are pre-packaged and distributed at specific times in the evening.

Sanitization at the 24-hour shelter takes place almost constantly.

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Krystle sits on her bed in her room at a women's shelter on Wednesday. (Ruth Bonneville / Winnipeg Free Press)

3 p.m.

2 minute read Preview

3 p.m.

2 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

What do you imagine people would say at your funeral? Well, if you die during a pandemic, not much.

That time of coming together to remember someone's life has been all but eliminated. There is no storytelling, no shared memories over dainties, no tears over coffee, no heartfelt eulogies delivered in crowded rooms.

Now, everything has a chilly feel to it.

Funeral homes have approached the new grieving reality in different ways. Some have ceased holding viewing ceremonies altogether because of the limit of 10 people at a gathering, but at Friends Funeral Service on north Main Street near Kildonan Park, viewings continue and the staff is preparing for one at the moment.

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Harry Froese prepares the chapel at Friends Funeral Chapel on May 6, 2020 for a socially-distanced funeral service. (Jason Halstead / Winnipeg Free Press)

8 a.m.

3 minute read Preview

8 a.m.

3 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

A laptop, tablet and cellphone sit in front of him while wall-mounted screens display reminders of the pandemic that consumes most of his workday.

As Winnipeg Mayor Brian Bowman begins a series of video calls that focus on the city’s response to COVID-19, one flat-screen TV displays a news clip of a mask-wearing senior reaching out to a loved one on the opposite side of a glass window. Another displays a map with global counts of pandemic cases and deaths.

Bowman says determining how Winnipeg should respond to the realities of the pandemic is one of the most difficult tasks he’s faced as mayor.

“I think the biggest challenge is just dealing with everyone’s fears and anxieties because... we’re all human. It’s very unusual times,” he says.

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Mayor Brian Bowman videoconferences in his office at Winnipeg's City Hall. (Mikaela MacKenzie / Winnipeg Free Press)

1 p.m.

2 minute read Preview

1 p.m.

2 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Dr. Ryan Zarychanski is on the run.

In addition to his work as a critical-care physician, hematologist and clinician scientist at the University of Manitoba and CancerCare Manitoba, Zarychanski is one of a select few Manitobans who has expertise in running clinical trials.

Zarychanski and a team of researchers and co-ordinators are responsible for no less than seven coronavirus-related clinical trials that are underway or are about to start in Manitoba, and he is in the middle of another frantic 15-hour day.

Were it not for these trials, in which dozens of Manitobans have already taken part, COVID-19 patients here would not have access to any therapeutic treatments.

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Jason Halstead
Dr. Ryan Zarychanski, a hematologist, critical-care physician, clinician-scientist and University of Manitoba professor, at work on May 6, 2020 at CancerCare Manitoba at the Health Sciences Centre. (Jason Halstead / Winnipeg Free Press)

1 a.m.

3 minute read Preview

1 a.m.

3 minute read Thursday, May. 7, 2020

The coffee trickles slowly into the mug.

“It’s quiet tonight,” says Oliver Muswagon, as he waits for it to finish pouring.

“Usually if it’s not quiet, that means something is happening that shouldn’t be.”

Muswagon is working the overnight shift as a security guard at the Salvation Army Centre of Hope.

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Thursday, May. 7, 2020

Staff member Charles checks in a client at the Salvation Army Centre of Hope in Winnipeg. (John Woods / Winnipeg Free Press)

Noon

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Noon

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

It’s hard to imagine Osborne Village without the mouth-watering chimichangas, enchiladas, burritos and cold Mexican beer that are served at one of Winnipeg’s most iconic restaurants.

But like all restaurants during the COVID-19 pandemic, Carlos & Murphy’s and its popular outdoor patios have sat empty for the better part of six weeks.

At noon on this day, co-owner Nick Diacos sits inside, sporting a white hoodie bearing the name of his eatery. He has no idea how much longer he’ll have to wait to allow people back into the building. But he hopes it's soon.

In mid-March, he and his staff cleaned out the kitchen, emptied the coolers and delivered about $10,000 worth of food to several soup kitchens in the city after public-health officials ordered all restaurants closed.

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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

9 a.m.

3 minute read Preview

9 a.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

Thirty seconds before showtime, Rev. Monsignor Maurice Comeault leaves the sanctuary’s quaint sound booth and makes his way to the altar; double-checking the time on his iPhone as he passes the empty pews.

Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church on Roblin Boulevard has a capacity of 600, but right now there is room only for the pastor and his volunteer technical director during morning mass. Coronavirus has temporarily disbanded Comeault’s congregation — and he’s OK with that.

“It’s different, but in it’s own way it’s better,” he says. “The presence of love and life is not tied to a building.”

Comeault, 78, is enjoying connecting with parishioners in their homes virtually. He has been streaming a 45-minute mass on the church’s YouTube channel every day at 9 a.m. sharp since the pandemic landed in Manitoba. On Wednesday, 58 viewers tuned in to watch live.

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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

Priest Maurice Comeault performs his daily mass to online parishioners in an empty sanctuary Wednesday morning. (Ruth Bonneville / Winnipeg Free Press)

2 a.m.

3 minute read Preview

2 a.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

It's 2:30 a.m., and Ron D'Errico, president and founder of Impact Security, and his dispatcher, Hitesh Bhasin, are holding down the fort at the company's headquarters a block north of Portage and Main.

Normally, even this late on a weeknight, downtown streets would still be humming. Tonight, like most nights in recent weeks, things are eerily silent. No buses roaring past or sirens wailing in the distance.

"Usually there would be a lot going on at this time of the night, not just around here, but all over the city, but because of COVID-19 things are very quiet," says D'Errico. "Since the state of emergency was declared (by the province on March 30) it feels as if every day is a holiday, especially at night."

Bhasin keeps a watchful eye on a wall of closed-circuit camera monitors in the dispatch room, and is in constant radio contact with the guards on the street.

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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

Impact Security dispatcher Hitesh Bhasin watches over the system at 2:30 a.m. in the company's head office. (Mike Deal / Winnipeg Free Press)

6 a.m.

3 minute read Preview

6 a.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

The sun is still reaching for the sky as Alain Blair starts his workday, as always, with an inspection of his Peterbilt 18-wheeler.

“I check out the oil, all the fluids and tires, make sure my windows and mirrors are clean, have no air leaks, no nothing,” he says.

First stop this morning: Carman, where Blair will pick up a load of seed bound for a CN boxcar in Winnipeg. From there, well, he’ll just have to wait for word from his dispatcher. Blair’s next load could be anything from fresh produce to specialized machinery.

Blair, 68, has been driving a truck for more than 40 years, the last nine for Trappers Transport. His rig will be loaded and unloaded seven or eight times before his shift is over in about 12 hours.

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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

10 a.m.

3 minute read Preview

10 a.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

There is something soothing about the thunder of hooves on the backstretch during workouts at Assiniboia Downs.

The sound is music to the ears of trainer Steven Gaskin, who wasn't sure there would be a racing season when spring workouts commenced March 1.

"It's pretty challenging not knowing," Gaskin says as he attends to the 29 horses he oversees at the track. "But we have an idea now (about) when we're going ahead. You still have to keep your fingers crossed. We're doing everything necessary to keep safe and everybody around us safe."

For Manitobans, it will be the only way to get a live action sports fix, albeit with the aid of online broadcasts; there will be no fans allowed in the stands.

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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

MIKAELA MACKENZIE / WINNIPEG FREE PRESS FILES

7 a.m.

2 minute read Preview

7 a.m.

2 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

Captain Hook has been in many hot spots during his storybook adventures, but nothing compares to being put in a commercial dishwasher.

The figurine — small enough to be clenched in a toddler’s fist — is among the hard plastic toys placed inside a mesh bag and scalded during a wash cycle. Fuzzy toys such as teddy bears get their cleansing baths in a laundry washing machine that runs hot enough to kill germs.

It’s all part of the new normal at Maples Day Care, 1575 Templeton Ave., as staff boost safety precautions for both children and staff.

“Younger kids sometimes put their mouths on toys, and those toys go into the dishwasher,” says assistant director Crystallyn Salvador.

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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

Angela Tan thoroughly cleans toys prior to kids arriving at the daycare in the morning. (Ruth Bonneville / Winnipeg Free Press)

4 a.m.

3 minute read Preview

4 a.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

Deep inside the Winnipeg James Armstrong Richardson International Airport, in the parts where passengers never get to go, Allan Tam works quickly, quietly and alone, lifting a few final suitcases onto a cart. There are about a dozen in all, tagged for final destinations in Halifax, Ottawa or Toronto.

He pauses as he surveys the airport's baggage room, a vast concrete cavern dominated by loops of conveyor belts and the high-pitched whine of machines. Usually, he says, there would be 24 other people working down here with him, loading as many as eight flights before 8 a.m. with up to 100 bags each.

Now, Tam, who has handled baggage here for 15 years, is down to a morning crew of just four. The main central carousels that carry bags are turned off; no reason to use them.

The steep decline of traffic is "pretty scary," Tam says, but he's noticed loads are starting to creep up: one day, he hopes, it will be normal again.

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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

April 2, 2023