Covid City – Winnipeg Free Press

COVID and the City: 30 journalists, 24 hours and the story of our lifetime

Paul Samyn 3 minute read Friday, May. 8, 2020

The threat was there for all to see. But until COVID-19 was suddenly in our midst, could we really have imagined the pain the pandemic would inflict?

Lives upturned. Lives disrupted. Lives on the line. Lives lost.

In the eventful days since March 12, when the first confirmed case of coronavirus was announced in Manitoba, Winnipeg has been facing a test unlike any other in the past century.

We’ve had to retreat from family and friends to isolate at home. We’ve watched jobs being lost as the economy was placed in a coma. We’ve seen schools and streets emptied. Now that we are finally able to venture out more widely, we do so, increasingly, behind masks.

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11 p.m.

3 minute read Preview

11 p.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 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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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

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

10 p.m.

3 minute read Preview

10 p.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 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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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

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

9 p.m.

3 minute read Preview

9 p.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 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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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

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

8 p.m.

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8 p.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 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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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

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

7 p.m.

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7 p.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 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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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

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

6 p.m.

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6 p.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 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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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

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

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5 p.m.

2 minute read Preview

5 p.m.

2 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 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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Wednesday, May. 6, 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.

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4 p.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 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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Wednesday, May. 6, 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 Wednesday, May. 6, 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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Wednesday, May. 6, 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)

2 p.m.

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2 p.m.

5 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 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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Wednesday, May. 6, 2020

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

1 p.m.

3 minute read Preview

1 p.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 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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Wednesday, May. 6, 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)

Noon

3 minute read Preview

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

11 a.m.

3 minute read Preview

11 a.m.

3 minute read Wednesday, May. 6, 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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Wednesday, May. 6, 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)

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

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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

September 7, 2025

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