My Drive Across America During the Coronavirus Pandemic

By Warren Wong

As I drove across America, signs of the Coronavirus pandemic were slowly increasing. As I checked into the Hyatt Regency hotel for the night, the kind lady at the front desk wearing a smart suit jacket and a tired face greeted me politely.

She informed me that tonight would be the last night before the hotel would be closed down until late May.

I asked her what she would do? With a look of uncertainty, she said she didn’t know.

When I got to my hotel room on the 12th floor, I looked out the window and saw the city of Albuquerque, New Mexico. It was silent, eerie, a ghost town.

Not what I imagined my first time in Albuquerque would be.

Dealing with uncertainty

I reflected back on my conversation with the receptionist. She had confided in me that she was afraid of what the future might hold, and she was doing her best in light of the situation.

Despite the possibility of furlough and even losing her job, she carried on.

Maybe that’s all we can really do in times like these.

Near the end of March, shortly after my completion of military service with the United States Marine Corps, I had sold, got rid of and packed all my remaining belongings into my Honda Civic 2016 and started driving from sweet and sunny San Diego, California to New York City, the worst hit city of the Coronavirus pandemic. Just my luck.

During the last 6 months I spent many nights thinking of what I would be spending my next few years doing.

Through much effort I had lined up a few career opportunities for after the service with the help of some key mentors who I can not thank enough for their wisdom and patience.

However, I  knew deep down in my heart that it was not the right path for me. If not corporate America, where would I go? Perhaps this is a good time for me to figure it out.

Expectations Vs Reality

As I drove through Phoenix, Tucson, Amarillo, Albuquerque, Memphis, Atlanta, the scenes were all the same.

Deserted downtowns, closed stores, empty highways lay in the wake of the Coronavirus Pandemic.

It was not what I had expected my road trip across America would be like.

The Coronavirus was still not something that I fully comprehended. I did not know anyone personally affected by the virus and perhaps it made it less real, but the numbers don’t lie.

Nation on high alert

During my regular stops at gas stations, I noticed that everyone was especially sensitive. An innocent cough, or an allergy induced sneeze could be misconstrued for a deadly virus.

Social distancing is at an all time high and everyone is fearful.

Everyday I see a series of headlines regarding the Coronavirus, and the lives it has claimed.

The headlines were filled with breaking stories of where the virus originated, the surfaces that it can or can not survive on and the impact it has had on senior citizen homes.

Fear Causes Ignorance

Amongst the news, false information, if not worse than sensationalized news media was causing fear to run rampant. It drove everyday citizens to do otherwise crazy things: vandalism, racism, burglary, hoarding.

Driving some odd 3,200 miles through America during the coronavirus crisis gave me a lot of time to think.

By the time I finally reached Atlanta, Georgia, I had made up my mind that I would go and visit my family in Apex, North Carolina on my next stop.

I had a strong inclination to go see my brother and mother, who had been staying with my brother to take care of my niece since December, before the pandemic started.

I woke up early in the morning, quickly took a shower, ate a small breakfast, checked out of the hotel and headed towards my Honda Civic.

Thoughts of finally seeing my family filled my head with warm and fuzzy feelings.

As I approached my vehicle I sensed that something was awry, and as I rounded to the driver side of my car, I noticed that there was glass everywhere and what had been my rear passenger side window on the ground in pieces.

Someone had broken into my car the night before.

Remaining calm is more important than ever

My first reaction was to assess the situation. I knew that the burglar was long gone, it was more than likely a homeless folk milling around late at night noticed the belongings I had on the rear seats.

I did a quick inventory of the things that were missing and knew they only got away with my Marine Corps issued duffel bag, which had a few uniforms and clothes, easily replaceable.

I called around to see if my window could be replaced within the day, and that it would at least take a few days, due to it being the weekend, the part having to be ordered and with the Coronavirus, hours were affected.

I decided that I would drive straight to Apex, NC and see my family, rest for the night and then finish the drive to NYC the next morning.

Pointing fingers

As I started to drive, my mind started to dissect the whole event. I wanted to find someone to blame for my misfortune, but I couldn’t.

Maybe I should have found indoor parking, or covered up my backseat of the vehicle with a tarp so they couldn’t see I had any belongings there.

Look on the brightside

There were just too many what ifs, all I could do was find a way forward.

I looked on the bright side. I was excited to see my niece who had gotten on so well the past year.

Video chats and pictures just don’t do her any justice. She is the sweetest, brightest, and happy go lucky toddler I know, not that I know many, but I bet she is.

Now more than ever I wanted to spend more time with them, no matter the circumstances. I had spent the last 5 years away from my family, and it has weighed on me heavily.

I thought to myself, maybe this was a blessing in disguise.

Driving through the wooded highways of North Carolina my mind slowly drifted towards thoughts of nostalgia. I fondly remember growing up with my brother. How he and I would never see eye to eye and got into heated arguments over the smallest things.

My mother would constantly remind us to eat our vegetables and fruits and to make sure to do our homework. It was a much simpler time.

As these thoughts filled my head, I quickly arrived in Apex. I made my way to the apartment complex where my brother lived, parked where he had told me would be a parking spot saved for me, and I got out of my car and made my way to the balcony area on the side of the apartment building. He rented the first floor so I was able to surprise him.

Sitting on a lawn chair with him was my niece, Judith, who just woke up from a nap.

The importance of family

The balcony railing separated my brother and I, 6 feet apart. Although I didn’t think I had the Coronavirus, I didn’t want to take that risk.

I wanted to give my brother a punch, but I held back for the sake of sparing him from the virus. I wanted to pinch Judith’s cheek, but I held back.

I had driven over 2,000 miles and I couldn’t embrace them. It was disheartening, but at the same time I felt grateful.

I was happy to be here with them during these troubling times, share a few laughs and to see Judy run around and excitedly yelp and make odd baby noises.

Those are her first attempts to speak, and oddly enough I don’t need to know what she is saying, because I knew from her eyes that she saw the world in a different light, one of wonder and hope.

My mother finally appeared at the screen door and smiled at me. I could see in her eyes that she was happy that I had finally come. She was relieved and elated to see me and the feeling was mutual.

That night we spent together as a family I will always cherish. With our bellies full, hearts content, and stomachs aching from laughter, everything going on around the world melted away.

Conclusion

The next morning as I was packing my things and getting ready for my final leg of the drive back to NYC, a part of me didn’t want to leave.

In my mind, I wanted to desperately hold on to this fleeting moment that was slipping away.

I knew that we wouldn’t have that many more moments like these. All of us, here, together.

I glanced at my watch and knew I needed to get on the road. I was losing precious daylight. My father was waiting for me back in NYC.

I said my goodbyes, got in my Honda Civic, hit the ignition, and started back on the road. New York City, here I come.

Question for you

Oftentimes, nature can be the harshest of teachers. What has the Coronavirus taught you?