Rising Up
Our everyday lives have looked different this spring. While the new coronavirus shocked us all, heroes arose in The 330. Meet the brave essential workers and good neighbors who’ve been carrying us through this challenging time.
stories by Taylor Patterson, Kelly Petryszyn, Madeline Myers and Nora Vinson
Pathway to Hope
by Taylor Patterson
A community health care worker aids refugees through the coronavirus outbreak.
A wave of info has swirled around COVID-19 and much confusion has followed, especially for Akron’s refugee community. Months into the crisis, refugees are still decoding 24/7 reports in a language that’s foreign to them. How do we quarantine? Is my family going to die? — these are the questions Basu Pyakurel, an AxessPointe health care worker, is answering daily.
“I am a bridge between Nepali and English,” says Pyakurel, who emigrated from Nepal in 2009. “People don’t know what is going on because they don’t have anyone to tell them. I’m making sure everybody is getting this message.”
There are 15,000-plus Bhutanese Nepali refugees in Akron, and many are worrying about finding basic information on what the virus is and how to prevent it. Pyakurel translates the news and the Ohio governor’s statements and dispatches warnings, closures and other info through phone calls or online fliers.
“Some don’t know where to get food because stores are closed,” Pyakurel says. “People rely on me to get information about help.”
The 34-year-old can relate to that lost feeling. When his family relocated from Nepal to New York, there were little outreach services, they didn’t have a car and only knew of one store that was 20 minutes away. When Pyakurel came to Akron in 2015 and began working at AxessPointe, he became the person he lacked years ago and is happy to fill that gap for so many Akronites.
“When I moved to the United States, I didn’t have anyone to give me resources,” he says, “but now I’m helping people.”
In the first few weeks of the outbreak, Pyakurel made over 800 calls. He recalls a conversation with a Bhutanese Nepali refugee who was paranoid he had the virus because of chest pain. The man went to the hospital twice but tested negative and was sent home. Pyakurel answered his distressed call at 10 p.m. and deescalated, explaining his chest pain could just be anxiety, and he needed to stay home and rest.
“He called to thank me. He realized he was only panicked,” Pyakurel says.
Aside from providing comfort, he helps community members access vital resources. With so many stocking up on goods, it’s made shops refugees normally purchase their toilet paper or diapers from barren — leaving them scrambling. Pyakurel has been directing them to new stores or organizations’ toiletry cabinets stocked with essential products. Because of the language barrier, he also has made three-way calls to help set up doctor’s appointments or file for unemployment. Pyakurel has frantic people reach out from every part of Akron, not just refugees — and he’s helping them all.
“I am providing people with hope and basic education,” he says. “It means a lot and makes a big difference in mine and others’ lifetimes.”
Master of Plans
by Kelly Petryszyn
A firefighter steps up to prepare a Ravenna hospital for catastrophe.
Ed Grecol is a worst-case scenario guy. As a disaster coordinator for University Hospitals Portage Medical Center part time, he draws up plans and runs scenarios for hypothetical emergencies. The drills became reality in March when the new coronavirus crisis hit.
“We’ve been preparing for stuff like this for so long, but now we’re actually doing it,” says Grecol, who is an Aurora Fire Department lieutenant full time but currently works overtime at UH. “It’s been a shock.”
His emergency operations plan sprang into action March 16. A command center was set up, temperatures were checked at the hospital’s four entrances and a tent went up in the parking lot to relieve pressure on the emergency department. He’s since been making rounds nearly daily to update patient numbers, check in with disaster coordinators at other hospitals and coach staff on how to use personal protective equipment. As a firefighter, he works closely with ambulance crews, instructing them how to limit their patient contact, since anyone they transport could have the virus. “The biggest thing is protecting ourselves because if we don’t protect ourselves, we can’t help anybody,” Grecol says.
That became challenging as the virus rapidly spread and protective gear grew limited. First responders had to use the same mask and only switch it when they were exposed to a COVID-19 patient. That can be unnerving, but they are doing their best to be strategic about supplies.
Just like how Grecol had a plan for the hospital, he reminds firefighters and paramedics to mentally and physically prepare for the worst. “This could happen and will most likely happen to some of us, so we gotta learn to deal with it,” he says.
Grecol has prepared at home, too. His wife relocated to their sons’ bedroom as another precaution.
“I’m going to do what I can to keep it away from them,” he says. If he contracts the virus, he will isolate himself and stay in the master bedroom and the attached bathroom. “14 days in my bedroom — I don’t like that thought,” he admits. It would be tough but, in a way, his family is ready too. “They understand my job is kind of screwed up,” he says. “They’ve known this their whole lives.”
The sacrifice is easier for Grecol when he sees others do the same. The donations keep coming: cones from the Ohio Department of Transportation, homemade masks from citizens and a tent from a local company. Hospital workers he has never met are lending a hand in the command center.
Interaction by interaction Grecol is seeing people step outside their roles to pitch in.
“This is all unprecedented,” he says. “The community coming together and people doing things they wouldn’t normally do has been great.”
Those little kind acts are getting him through. He’s setting up plans in case of a 300 percent surge in capacity or mass casualties. It’s grim and exhausting, but taking precautions for the next stage of the pandemic could be the difference that will save lives. Day after day he returns to the hospital up for that task.
“The more things I get done today,” he says, “the more people are going to be protected.”
Good Neighbor
as told to Madeline Myers
The food on your table, fabric you wear and everyday goods that make your life easier all come from somewhere. Before they arrive at the store for you to purchase, many items make their journey in a semitrailer. During the COVID-19 outbreak, Barberton resident Melvin James continues to hit the road with the Akron-based JRayl Transport — delivering goods for Joann Fabrics and Crafts, Arhaus, Morton Salt and tire companies.
“Things still need to be moved, store shelves still need to be stocked. I feel a lot more responsibility — a lot more appreciation — of what I do because of that. I’m proud to be in an industry deemed essential.
We’re putting ourselves at a higher risk than others. I could travel up to three states in one day.
Our rest areas where we sleep, some of those were closed for a week or so throughout Pennsylvania, Indiana and Ohio. It was hard for us to find places to park and sleep.
There’s a lot less traffic. When you see shopping centers that were normally packed with cars and people, [but now] they’re gone — it’s somewhat surreal.
Usually during a pickup or delivery, when I’m done, we would say to each other, Thank you, have a nice day. Now, I tell everyone to stay safe, or they will tell me first. I know that’s a small gesture, but it shows how we’re unified in all of this.”
Good Neighbor
as told to Madeline Myers
For Rick Ferdig, now’s a time to count blessings and offer support. In March, the Kent State University educational technology professor began investigating ways he could apply his research on innovative tools to fill a need for personal protective equipment for COVID-19 frontline workers like his wife, a Summa Health System nurse practitioner. Ferdig and 30 of his colleagues formed a team to create and donate hundreds of sewn cotton and 3D-printed masks, both made using surgical wraps, and 3D-printed and laser-cut face shields. They adapted existing designs and did dozens of safety tests. They will share the final design on Kent State’s website for others to use.
“The first reaction when something like this happens is to protect yourself, to protect your family. Then you realize we’ve been called to greater things. We’ve been called to love our neighbor as ourselves.
We’ve been trying to study whether we can use alternative materials to provide high-quality protection. What we’ve done is explore the use of surgical wrap as filtration devices.
When you make these masks, you have to fit test them. What that does is find out if you have a good seal. If you don’t, viruses, in terms of bacteria, can get in from the sides or top.
The best way to get through this is to help people. What gets me through is knowing that what I do today and the work I do fit testing masks are going to save a life tomorrow. That gives me hope.”
Good Neighbor
as told to Taylor Patterson
When Dan Russo opened the Tavern of Stow, he envisioned a restaurant that would uplift the community. So when COVID-19 hit, the tavern became a means to help struggling neighbors. On March 15, Russo and his wife, Kerry, prepared 1,340 meals to deliver to Stow students who have reduced and free school lunches.
“I believe if you have food and shelter, you can be happy. Growing up, we always ate. We were lucky. I’ve seen so many people who didn’t have that.
What if the parents are laid off? What if the parent gets sick? These kids don’t have access to free lunch or a lunch program, so let’s help.
We put a call to the Stow Community Foundation and S.M.F. N.I.C.E. [nonprofit]. Stow is not short of volunteers. We had a lot of drivers. When they went to the door, the driver said, On behalf of the Stow community and school, we wanted you to have this.
I’m getting a little choked up thinking about it. Some drivers were crying when they came back. It was emotional. There was a lot of excitement and happiness by the parents.
Local businesses have to partner with local government, with nonprofits. They fill a need, but there are so many gaps they can’t fill — local businesses can step up.
When they all come together, it’s huge what can be accomplished.”
Cheer Leader
by Kelly Petryszyn
A Medina mother makes a crafty turn toward joy while in quarantine.
In springtime, Kristin Gambaccini’s kids are busy with plays, school and work, and her teacher husband coaches track, so they all pass each other by between activities. But when the new coronavirus put everyday life on hold in March, it was the first time in three months the family of 10 sat around the dinner table. “I remember thinking, I wish it was for a different reason, but I’m loving this moment,” says the Medina mom. “I’ve been gifted time.”
It’s a sweet sentiment, but she understands many moms panicked about quarantining with their kids. Her social media feeds were filled with desperate cries: I never thought I would be a home schooling parent. I’m not cut out for this. What are we supposed to do with them? Gambaccini, a stay-at-home mother of eight kids from 2 to 20, stepped in to help mothers occupy antsy children and change their perspectives.
“There was so much anxiety that I figured I’m going to share what I’m doing with my kids to make it easier for people to think, I can do that,” she says.
She had been posting do-it-yourself home decor projects and cooking hacks on her Perfectly Destressed blog, but COVID-19 prompted her to share more kids’ crafts, like homemade lava lamps that double as a science experiment, under the hashtag #spreadthehappy.
“I’m trying to be positive. If our kids see we are positive and we’re putting forth an effort to make it fun — it helps with their anxiety,” she says.
To release stress and practice writing outside of school, Gambaccini had her kids create journals called the “Corona Chronicles.” Her 8-year-old scrawled, “I miss all of my friends at school. I hate the virus. But I like staying at home.” And she laughs that her 10-year-old son just wrote, “Still living.”
“It’s encouraging for kids because even if they’re mad, they can get it out,” she says. “As a parent, it gives me an idea of what’s going through their heads.”
Her kids also think up craft ideas. After they read a book about a bear sending postcards, they wanted to make some. Gambaccini got resourceful and had them cut postcards, which followed U.S. Postal Service guidelines, out of Girl Scout cookie boxes and decorate them to send to their grandparents.
“It’s trying to figure out ways you’re still connected in this weird time,” she says.
Her posts have gotten through — she has over 14,600 Instagram followers and has been on “The Kelly Clarkson Show.” The craft that’s resonated the most during the outbreak began with a silly idea. Her kids put fresh flowers in toilet paper rolls and left them on neighbors’ doorsteps as a You got TP’d joke that became so much more.
“It’s a way to do something funny but also let them know we’re thinking about you,” she says.
When Gambaccini posted it, she was flooded with families sending her photos of toilet paper bouquets they gave to neighbors. She’s touched by how it’s set off a chain of kindness and replaced panic with happiness.
“It makes us slow down and enjoy each other,” she says.