Slip into the Quiet & Wait

(Author’s note: To get the full experience, this is best read/viewed with Ghost Town by The Specials playing in the background)

All these photos and videos were taken on March 15th of 2020 in Brooklyn.

The NBA had just postponed their season like a day before which created a domino effect throughout the country of states, towns and cities suddenly shutting down. Bracing and preparing for this virus that was starting to storm the gates. Prior to the NBA, with no federal leadership, everything felt very deer-in-the-headlights disjointed as the news of it’s proliferation across Asia and then into Europe spread. Suddenly it felt imminent and there was real fear and uncertainty.

I remember people started to hide.

I went out on the streets in Bed Stuy that morning and no one was out. At Fat Kid (Golconda Skatepark) skaters still showed up (as they would no matter a plague or zombie hordes) but there were less of them than typical and it was the first time I saw people “bumping elbows” (honestly just wave).

Fat Kid is directly under the Brooklyn Queens Expressway and already covered in so much grime and pigeon shit that odds are if you skate there you either become indestructible or a walking bio-hazard. Without fail I always slam the hardest there, wheelbite on a piece of gravel then sliding through avian feces and road trash.

I skated down the street from Fat Kid to a nearby Wegmans. Cops lined the entrance and the exit, people were palpably frayed and stocking up in an erratic fashion. There were no masks at this point but giant containers of hand sanitizer were now a thing. I went from there to Cooper park and then headed back to my girl’s apartment.

That day really felt like you were in the shadow of an approaching Tsunami, some people didn’t give a shit and some were terrified but everyone felt something coming.

That night, well making dinner we listened as games and concerts were cancelled; schools and restaurants were closed; and governors began briefings. Friends and family began to lecturing others on social media. St. Patrick’s day was cancelled and The Dropkick Murphys played a livestream show in an empty Fenway Park encouraging everyone to “stay strong.” Not even really a fan but I watched it because it all felt so weird. I wanted to appreciate what it’s like to be in the Twilight Zone and be fully aware of it.

The next morning I wrote up a piece about skating in the apocalypse, basically imagining what that would be like, and sent it to an editor at Thrasher but they wanted to hold off on anything virus related until we saw “how bad this is gonna be.”

A few days later a cashier at the grocery store broke down in tears in front of me as the lines spilled back into the aisles. ‘ “I’m just so scared.” she whispered looking into my eyes.

Italy was overwhelmed, Spain was on it’s way. New York would be entirely different a week later.

A system built off of exploitation we soon learned would go to great lengths to maintain itself, even once it was fully exposed. Hopefully we started to recognize how much we matter to and depend on each other; and how utterly expendable we are in the eyes of those who hoard.

We slipped into a quiet and waited for spring.