COVID-19: Social Distancing
George wearing his mask and standing at the back door, looking out into the yard.
In the span of 5 mins I learned more about George than I expected to. At 78 years old he’s seen his share of global issues but this pandemic seems to have unnerved him the most. As a sports fan he’s disappointed that he can’t watch his favorite teams on tv.
“You know it’s bad when you can’t catch a ball game” he said as he looked towards the flat screen.
When I arrived he was on a cellphone discussing financial matters with a bank. After he ended the call he shared with me how much of a pain it has been to learn to use a new phone. “Im an old school kind of guy,” he said as he continue to explain it took 4 days for him to figure it out with tech support. It is evident George is deeply religious. I respect his passion. A large crucifix, visible over his exhausted Notre Dame hoodie, is draped close to his heart. In some way part of me believes he had aspirations to play for such a legendary team. He covets football the same as he does his religion.
George was saddened by the news of the Holyoke Soldiers Home. As I was leaving he mentioned how awful it was. I could sense a level of pain behind that statement. I asked him if he served his country and he shared with me his reasons, both medically and familia as to why he couldn’t enlist, even after he tried in 1964.
George posed for two photographs. His mask hides his identity, but he revealed himself to me. We bridged our anonymity through the portraits I made of him. George was happy to share with me and only asked me a few questions that didn’t really reveal much of who I am. What George knows of me is that I am a photographer and he didn’t seem to eager or interested to know more. He was content revealing himself to me and sharing his work.
“I am a religious man, but I am not a saint.”
People are natural story tellers. When you ask the right questions, they will reveal more of themselves than any single portrait can. George was very happy to share with me his work. Rummaging through a box he produced several albums of his music. He offered me a copy of his albums, but understood when I declined to accept the invitation. If I met George under any other time, outside of this pandemic, he’d have greeted me and parted ways with a handshake.
“I’d give you a handshake, but we can’t. Be good kid, stay safe.”
“Thanks George. Stay safe.” Repeating to myself, “stay safe” the new adaptation for parting ways.
I wouldn’t have made a portrait of George if we weren't living in a pandemic. He wouldn’t be wearing a mask and I surely wouldn’t have be shielding my identity in a similar fashion. The face masks, the respirators, the gloves, all the safety gear we are being coerced to wear is forcing us to restructure how we interact with the people we know or people we are meeting for the first time.
