Lifestyle
How Covid Changed the Lives of These 29 Americans
Five years ago, Covid took hold and the world transformed almost overnight. As routines and rituals evaporated, often replaced by grief, fear and isolation, many of us wondered: When will things go back to normal? Could they ever?
Today, for many, the coronavirus pandemic seems far away and foggy, while for others it’s as visceral as yesterday. We asked Americans what changes forged in that upheaval have lasted, and hundreds of you detailed the ways your lives assumed a different shape — for better and for worse.
Here are some stories of those enduring changes. Interviews have been edited and condensed for clarity.
Donna Sintic,
72, Santa Monica, Calif.
It totally changed my perspective on holidays which I had controlled for too many years. Suddenly it was okay to eat pizza on the patio — spaced six feet apart — on Thanksgiving. My new resolution was to relinquish control and just let holidays be about gathering family and counting blessings.
Asher Steinberg,
33, New York City
Life is mostly back to normal for me, but my partner and I still test if we have respiratory symptoms, and generally ask our family to as well. I still feel some uncertainty about what the right decisions are — Should I put on a mask on this crowded subway car? Is that person just coughing because of allergies or should I move a couple seats over?
Antoine Carter,
39, Milwaukee He lost his stepdad and an aunt to Covid in 2020.
It restructured our family dynamic, and I needed to step up and fill new roles. Then George Floyd happened, and it gave me courage to stand up for myself, and ask for what I deserved at my job. I went back to school in 2021 and finished my bachelor’s degree online. It forced me to think, and figure out what was next, and who the next me was.
Carolina Acosta-Alzuru,
66, Athens, Ga.
Before the pandemic I had only one houseplant. Today I have more than 30. I still work a lot. I still wake up at 5 a.m. But now I meditate and take care of my plants before I do anything else.
Sarah Kelly,
35, Winston-Salem, N.C. She was finishing graduate school at the time.
My fellowship ended with no direction forward, I lost my temporary housing and didn’t qualify for unemployment as a student. With little savings, I moved back to my hometown for family and community support. I live a much smaller life now, in a town with no opportunities in my field. The upside to it all? I have a beautiful 5-month-old baby girl, who has brought me more joy than I knew was possible.
Miguel Guzman,
56, San Antonio He nearly died after getting Covid in late 2020.
The most important thing is being grateful to be alive, just being able to do the things that we love to do, to play mariachi music. Being in that dire situation, that’s the only thing that I wanted. I was thinking about my family — how they were going to manage if I didn’t live. But I’m still here.
Michelle Jaggi,
43, Erie, Pa.
Masks became so divisive, and I didn’t expect that. A lot of the concrete connections with people are eroded when you’re not participating in the typical activities, when going out to lunch is replaced by texts and calls. It leads to hurt feelings on both sides. I have friends who have said, “Things don’t have to be this way,” but my family feels, for our safety, that it does need to be this way. Those friendships have changed.
Lynn Truong,
36, Las Vegas
My favorite thing I learned was how to love and appreciate my face with no makeup on. Pre-pandemic, I would put on makeup just to check the mail.
Kesha Coward,
47, Richmond, Va. She has multiple sclerosis, and lost her job in April 2022.
I had never been unemployed and I had to lean on my savings. I have M.S., and I didn’t have health insurance for about a year, so I didn’t have my medication. I was able to find a new job, with insurance, but I could not work remotely. I did get Covid, and it impacted my health — I have had a heart monitor installed. I was really going through it, and I had to push myself. I told myself, this can’t be the end of everything.
James P. Burns,
72, New York City
My wife and I had always wanted a dog, but had hesitated because of time constraints. But with the uncertain future, a dog made perfect sense. Kiki will be 5 in April.
Constance Kreemer,
75, Santa Cruz, Calif. She is a professional dancer and has taught yoga for decades.
I believe my body is my temple. I became a pariah during the pandemic because I wasn’t willing to be vaccinated. I had friends who wouldn’t hug me or get in a car with me. I had people tell me I must be a Republican, when I am very, very liberal. There was so much fear instilled in everyone. The lasting change for me was to know who my people were.
Rosanne Zoccoli,
72, New York City
I do wish that more investment be made into this type of long Covid. It is, incorrectly, not considered dangerous. But I can’t smell gas or smoke.
Paige Woodard,
21, Northampton, Mass.
It was the most drastic weight gain I had ever had in my life. And I think I didn’t notice it for a while, in part because I was living in, like, sweatpants and pajama pants, and I didn’t really have to go anywhere. And that weight has stayed on.
Jacqueline Child,
30, Denver She started a dating app with her sister for disabled and chronically ill people.
I was not outspoken about my disability, and now, interacting with this community every day, I have really normalized it for myself. I think for many non-disabled people, there’s a view that disability and intimacy don’t go together. That is something we want to change.
Sydney Drell Reiner,
67, Hermosa Beach, Calif. She was married for 27 years.
“You look so much happier,” friends tell me now that we’re separated and finalizing the divorce. But what I think they’re really seeing is me — the person I used to be before this marriage. The person who made choices based on what I wanted, rather than what I believed was required of me. Covid stripped away the distractions and revealed a truth I’d been avoiding. And for that, strangely enough, I am endlessly grateful.
Tarit Tanjasiri,
61, Irvine, Calif. His cafe and bakery had 70 employees in 2020.
We were able to leverage our relationship with our vendors and at least keep our employees fed. I know that they were there at the hardest times volunteering to come and clean the bakery for free. We’re able to now really make more investments to offer everyone health insurance, retirement plans.
Michele Rabkin,
61, Oakland, Calif.
Trying to keep our spirits up, me, my husband and a few friends decided we would get together on Zoom to chat, then go watch a movie and come back on Zoom afterwards to talk about it. We’ve watched 175 movies together so far.
Shawn’te C.R. Harvell,
42, Elizabeth, N.J. He is a funeral home manager.
I wasn’t getting much sleep because we were so busy, and that was the first time I questioned my career choice. Everything changed with how we culturally referenced and dealt with our dead, to the point where we were going to the cemetery and it was just the funeral director and the deceased. You had to FaceTime the family. I did not get into this to just be picking up a body to dispose of it. It changed the way we do funerals now.
Charles Huang,
22, Rosemount, Minn. He has not gotten Covid and continues to mask.
The isolation I still feel is painful. When I’m in a crowded elevator or on a fully booked flight, I try to act calm, but my mind frantically fixates on the possibility of contracting Covid, and puzzles over why post-pandemic life never came for me the same way it came for what looks like nearly everyone else.
Cindy Way,
67, State College, Pa.
When my evangelical church closed, I felt a spiritual urge to explore other traditions. I began to question everything I had been told, and went into a spiritual freefall from which I haven’t fully recovered. I saw my lifelong Republican views flip as well. I no longer felt threatened by those outside my bubble and began to attend an affirming church and support the rights of all the disenfranchised. It’s still very painful to acknowledge the pain and damage I may have caused others.
Carolyn Thomas,
60, Strasburg, Va.
My employer insisted that we get Covid shots or file for exemptions that, if approved, would lead to regular testing. I wouldn’t get the shots or tests, and so I had to retire early and give up my high salary for a lower pension than I’d expected. I’d voted for Democrats my entire life, and in 2024 I voted for Trump.
Malik Shelton,
33, Augusta, Ga.
A lot of nurses would tell you, in some ways, we miss Covid — the way people treated you then. The country was going through a hard time, and everyone was being hit, so you didn’t have so many situations with nurses being called names, or patients saying they don’t want anyone with an accent. Those things, now? They happen every day.
Kevin Nincehelser,
37, Topeka, Kan. He and his wife had two more children during the pandemic.
I have been close to them their whole lives because Covid allowed me to work from home and better assist with childcare. My wife and I converted our kids from public school to home-school. We now have all our groceries delivered. I am also a business owner and converted our business from 100 percent in the office to 100 percent work from home.
Dr. Mark Hamed,
45, Sandusky, Mich. He is a local public health official.
It taught me to get out of my silo and listen to people with different opinions, different politics and let them educate me. I met with these little old ladies, as they explained their fears about vaccines and autism. They were so scared for their grandchildren. And after that conversation, they were hugging me, texting me. This community is all about family, so now I tell them, “We should probably get the flu vaccine, because we care about our older folks.” They all mean well, there is just so much misinformation.
Talia Falkenberg,
22, Atlanta Her high school was still remote when she returned for her senior year in the fall of 2020.
There were a lot of firsts I was missing out on. My peers and I were so focused on our own futures, and it made us zoom out and focus on the big picture. I don’t sweat the small stuff anymore, and I don’t feel as angry. I give a little more grace, now, to the administrators who made that decision.
Judith Liskin-Gasparro,
78, Iowa City
An informal Yiddish study group started up over Zoom. Although Yiddish was the native language of all of my (immigrant) grandparents, I had learned no Yiddish as a child. I thought the group might be a nice distraction. To my surprise, I fell in love with Yiddish.
Stephanie Woerfel,
72, Everett, Wash.
My sister and I were avid pool swimmers. We live 10 minutes away from Puget Sound. One day we saw a woman in a bikini coming out of the water onto the beach. The next week my sister and I took the plunge. We swim twice a week in the Sound rain or shine, snow or wind.
Asia Santos,
39, San Diego She volunteered to travel as a nurse to New York City in April 2020.
You were faced with these huge questions every day: What is a good death? What is a bad death? My thing was, no one is allowed to die alone. It was the only way I could get up the next day. You can make trauma work negatively for you, or positively.
Mei Davis,
60, Pensacola, Fla. She has not fully regained her sense of taste and smell after getting Covid in 2021.
Life almost becomes muted. I lived to travel, and the first thing I always did was look up the best restaurant wherever I was. I still do that, because you don’t want to give up on these things, and you hope someday they might come sliding back.
Lifestyle
L.A. Affairs: Our night together reminded me of what I’d been missing this entire time
On the way home, I stop by one of my watering holes for cocktails and a light meal. At this one, happy hour is frequented by local folks — a few of them salty dogs from the marina nearby. Once the bartender spots me, she starts preparing a margarita — with lots of love, as she likes to describe it.
Scanning the bar for a seat, I see a young woman engaging with the regulars. She is attractive: blond, blue eyes, soft facial features, petite and in good physical shape, and smartly dressed, a rarity at this Marina del Rey joint. She has a captivating smile and, as I soon find out, she’s funny and a good storyteller.
I sit next to her, and in between sips and bites, I learn a few things. She grew up in Los Angeles, and now lives abroad and is on a visit, checking up on her mom. She had plans for a ladies’ night out but that changed when her friend had to attend to a last-minute emergency.
“Well, how’s the ceviche?” she asks.
“So-so. The short rib tacos are tastier,” I say, taking a bite.
“How about the margarita?”
“Boozy. I make them better,” I say.
“Hmm.”
Observing her easy chat with the bartender about drinks is fun, as I appreciate people who are curious about options and details.
Soon a margarita arrives. “Boozy is good,” she says.
I laugh.
We continue chatting and slowly reach a moment where our stories are easy and playful. She is curious about my accent. I tell her about my formative years in Lima, Peru, and my family’s adventures relocating to the U.S. We also talk about places we’ve been and favorite destinations we’d like to explore.
After I finish my second drink, the check arrives.
“Well, it’s been fun, and now I’m taking the show on the road!” I tell her.
She looks at me flirtatiously and asks: “Can I come along?”
“I’m just going home.”
With a wink, she says, “I hear the margaritas are killers.”
Giggling, we get into our cars, and she follows me home.
In my loft, everything catches her eye: books, art, pictures, CDs, liquor cabinet, furniture, the colors of the walls. She is having fun, but the thought that perhaps she is scoping the place for robbery crosses my mind.
As I prepare our drinks, she asks about my life.
A fortunate man, I had a fulfilling and challenging career as an audio engineer. I traveled the world recording music, supported coverage of news events and various cultural and scientific expeditions. I learned along the way and contributed to a better understanding of the human experience with reports and stories aired on public radio.
These days I enjoy “full-time living” (my moniker for retirement): golfing, tennis, hiking, travel, reading, writing, cooking, music and happy hour.
With drinks at the ready, we toast to our chance meeting.
“Yummy. This is the tastiest margarita,” she says after her first sip.
We move to the living area, and looking over my eclectic CD collection, we talk about music we like. For fun, we start playing DJ, listening to handpicked selections on the couch. When Tina Turner’s “What’s Love Got to Do With It” plays, she holds my hand and asks: “Would you join me for a dance?”
We get up and sway to the groove, and as we get closer, our eyes meet. Then she says: “Be sweet to me.”
We kiss long and hard, and when my hand touches her back, I hear a sigh.
“Wakey wakey, sailor,” she says, caressing my tummy.
“Wow! You’re delicious trouble,” I say, half-awaken.
“I think we broke a record,” she tells me, smiling and playing with her hair.
Pulling her closer, we embrace, her head resting on my chest, and in silence, we breathe our scent and hear the beating of our hearts.
It’s the middle of the night, and she has to go. We get up, and I start on an omelet as she gets ready.
She joins me in the kitchen, and as we eat, she talks about her life: about her mom, work and a love relationship needing contemplation. “A work in progress,” she says about sorting through some difficulties with her partner.
Looking at her, I’m listening, loving the moment, thankful we are living it and confiding comfortably.
Now it’s time to go, and giggling over nothing, we walk to her car.
I ask her to text me when she gets to her mom’s. She gives me a thumbs up, and with a kiss and a warm hug, we say goodbye. Then I watch her drive up the exit ramp into the night.
I turn around and feel alive! So much so that I skip back to my place.
Now, sitting on the couch with eyes closed, my thoughts take me back 45 years when I was at Georgetown University and met the woman who became my wife.
How magical it all had been: the way we smiled at each other, the coquettish small talk, and the tender sound of our voices. It led to lovemaking, courtship, falling in love, marriage and many years of growing up and building a life together. Unfortunately, we grew apart, and after 16 years, it ended in divorce. And I have remained single since.
Tonight, out of the blue, that magic feeling from long ago returns with this enchanting woman! A gift: from my lucky stars and Father Time.
My cell dings: “Delicious Trouble checking in. Home safe.”
“So fun and special to have met you xo,” I reply.
The author is a retired audio engineer who lives in Los Angeles.
L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.
Lifestyle
Bill Maher is getting the Mark Twain Prize after all
Satirist Bill Maher is this year’s recipient of the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor. Maher will receive the award at the Kennedy Center on June 28th. The show will stream on Netflix at a later date.
Evan Agostini/Invision/AP
hide caption
toggle caption
Evan Agostini/Invision/AP
Bill Maher will be receiving the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor after all.
There’s been some confusion about whether the comedian and longtime host of HBO’s Real Time with Bill Maher would, indeed, be getting the top humor award. After The Atlantic cited anonymous sources saying he was, White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt called it “fake news.” But today the Kennedy Center made it official.
“For nearly three decades, the Mark Twain Prize has celebrated some of the greatest minds in comedy,” said Roma Daravi, the Kennedy Center’s vice president of public relations in a statement. “For even longer, Bill has been influencing American discourse – one politically incorrect joke at a time.”
Is President Trump, chair of the Kennedy Center’s board, in on the joke?
Maher once visited Trump at the White House and he tends to be more conservative than many of his comedian peers but after their dinner Trump soured on Maher, calling him a “highly overrated LIGHTWEIGHT” on social media.
Maher’s acerbic wit has targeted both political parties and he’s been particularly hard on Trump recently, criticizing his decisions to wage a war with Iran and his personnel choices.
“Trump said, ‘when oil prices go up, we make a lot of money.’ Um, who’s ‘we?,’” Maher said in a recent monologue.
Past recipients of the Mark Twain Prize include Conan O’Brien, Dave Chappelle, Jon Stewart, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Tina Fey, Eddie Murphy and Carol Burnett.
In a statement released through the Kennedy Center, Maher said, “It is indeed humbling to get anything named for a man who’s been thrown out of as many school libraries as Mark Twain.”
Maher will receive the Mark Twain Prize at the Kennedy Center on June 28. The show will stream on Netflix at a later date.
Lifestyle
What European Luxury Can Learn From American Fashion
-
Detroit, MI1 week agoDrummer Brian Pastoria, longtime Detroit music advocate, dies at 68
-
Movie Reviews1 week ago‘Youth’ Twitter review: Ken Karunaas impresses audiences; Suraj Venjaramoodu adds charm; music wins praise | – The Times of India
-
Sports6 days agoIOC addresses execution of 19-year-old Iranian wrestler Saleh Mohammadi
-
New Mexico5 days agoClovis shooting leaves one dead, four injured
-
Business1 week agoDisney’s new CEO says his focus is on storytelling and creativity
-
Technology5 days agoYouTube job scam text: How to spot it fast
-
Tennessee4 days agoTennessee Police Investigating Alleged Assault Involving ‘Reacher’ Star Alan Ritchson
-
Texas1 week agoHow to buy Houston vs. Texas A&M 2026 March Madness tickets