Two years ago the Covid-19 pandemic was crushing New York City. By the days the usually bustling streets were empty. At night, the sound of ambulances rushing victims of the virus to hospitals, were a soundtrack of despair. My father, Nelson Elmer George, was one of those fighting for his life with each breath. On April 25, 2020 the virus took his life in a hospital on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, not far from his beloved Harlem, where he lived and worked much of his life after settling in NYC in 1956. When left the Army after the Korean War, Elmer parked cars, worked as a caterer, did securty at City College and had various uptown hustles. We were estranged for most of my adult life, but reconnected about a year before his death. So lucky to have made that move before Covid-19 swept across the planet. These foolish people who denied the virus or have refused to follow simple life saving protocols disrespect the mamy who have died, an ignorant arrogance that will be not be forgotten. Let’s stay a prayer for the departed and hug those who made it through.
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