COVID-19 In New York City (Annotated)
Posted: April 10th, 2025 | Filed under: CitywideThe big COVID-19 in New York City page is here. What follows here is a slightly expanded, annotated version . . .
When you take a picture you’re noticing something — it could be something funny, interesting, beautiful or infuriating, but whatever it is you’re essentially saving it for later. I didn’t specifically set out to document anything in particular between March 2020 and now, but here are things that caught my eye during that whole time.
In February the school sent this letter home and it’s worth remembering where we began:
Note that at that point the CDC wasn’t recommending face masks for healthy people, “[h]owever, they are permitted.” That said, “[i]f the face mask becomes a distraction in the classroom [. . .] school staff may ask students to remove them.”
The decision whether to close schools, etc. hadn’t been made yet, but there were big lines to check out at the Costco on Thursday, March 12 at 11:39 a.m.:
That next Tuesday the 17th — two days after the mayor closed restaurants, bars and schools — the line to get into Costco was too long, so we bailed on that idea:
So pull on the latex gloves . . .
. . . and try out the Long Island City Food Bazaar instead, where meat and toilet paper were rapidly selling out:
The switch to “remote school” happened later that week, and by Thursday the 19th we were called into the building to pick up materials (it took years for parents to be invited back into a school building during the school day–it was perhaps 2023, if I’m remembering correctly):
When we finally made it into the Costco on the 19th, social distancing guidelines were in place and toilet paper was scarce, and the “good” toilet paper non-existent (though this was the point in my life when I learned people have various strong opinions about soft double ply versus scratchy single ply):
Sunday the 22nd, and it looked as if that the local sex club was getting rid of furniture:
I know enterprising writers often have an op-ed in their back pocket to pitch whenever a topic becomes germane but ew (and gross/annoying enough to take a screenshot that day):
Sunday, April 5, by which point the local drug store helpfully taped six-foot-wide guides on the sidewalk outside:
This tweet was very funny at the time . . .
. . . and begat the concept of the “SLF Stroll,” which became part of our routine, generally sometime after online school finished. It was often just a perfunctory fifteen-minute out/fifteen-minute back walk around the neighborhood. Many of the photos of the neighborhood were taken on “SLF Strolls”:
By this point, bars and restaurants had been closed for three weeks “due to the unfortunate matter”:
Meanwhile, takeout was permitted, but by this point guidance on face masks had shifted:
I have pictures of myself with makeshift face coverings — i.e., torn T-shirts — covering my mouth (lol) on April 6, which reminded me of the costuming in the Pat Benatar “Love Is A Battlefield” video:
At one point the advice was not to wear face masks. This, for example, was one of those legislator letters from our state senator including various “helpful information” about Covid, sent sometime before the local bagel store requested that everyone wear a mask to enter the premises:
Takeout-only, the local McDonald’s removed all seating, just so everything was clear:
Eventually, PPE litter became a problem:
There’s something appropriate about a “Crush Covid” mural on a roll-down gate. This was a beauty salon; salons and barber shops would not open again until late June:
Fairly soon after closing bars and restaurants, the State Liquor Authority allowed bars “off-premises privileges” provided they served food — early on, a simple bag of chips fulfilled that requirement. Many establishments began serving to-go cocktails, and it didn’t take long for most others to catch up.
The sandwich board in front of the bar here says “Take Out Only — We’re Open Until We’re Not Open” while the window on the left reminds passersby of the daily 7 pm “Clap Because We Care” moment when people in New York opened windows and clapped and banged on pans and whatnot to salute healthcare professionals and essential workers:
It seemed like it took a while for this sushi restaurant to start to do takeout but they eventually did:
Covid meant projects around the house — sourdough bread! — and this was the beginning of our sourdough starter, on April 30:
There was a point in May when it was hard to find yeast for other baking projects — I finally located this Euro-brand at the specialty store:
Sourdough bread (June 14), which became a regular thing:
Ordered a 25-pound bag of rye flour in June, and that lasted a while:
And then the government money started rolling in:
I think it’s widely accepted at this point that closing playgrounds was one of the most counterproductive aspects of the closing/lockdown effort but there was that idea, especially early on, that surfaces harbored viruses. Point six of Governor Andrew Cuomo’s ten-point NYS on PAUSE (Policies Assure Uniform Safety for Everyone) executive order stated “[i]ndividuals should limit outdoor recreational activities to non-contact and avoid activities where they come in close contact with other people” (the ten-point plan reads as incredibly extreme in retrospect). And playgrounds and basketball courts were nothing if not places for kids to come in close contact with one another:
Elsewhere, the effort was on to minimize human contact, even outside (just for the moment forget about takeout cocktail windows):
“Suggested By The Doctors For Prevention”:
Given that everyone was “sheltering in place” — that euphemism being preferable to “locked down” — at some point I got curious what Midtown looked like. So a friend and I biked into Midtown one morning before remote school began to check it out. This was Fifth Avenue, Rockefeller Center and Times Square on Thursday, May 7, 2020 between 8:30 and 9:15 am, a time of the week normally much busier than what we encountered:
Steinway Street in Astoria during Ramadan — note the mask and glove (!) requirement to enter — but what probably caught my eye was the to-go hookah/shisha. I don’t know, that just seemed a little dangerous:
My memory was that open-container rules were relaxed in 2020, but in verifying this just now it seems as if that was never actually the case (a bill to legalize drinking on the street was proposed in July 2020 but it never went anywhere). That said, if, one, bars were selling to-go cocktails and, two, there were restrictions on in-person indoor get-togethers — Cuomo’s NYS on PAUSE plan canceled “[n]on-essential gatherings of individuals of any size for any reason (e.g. parties, celebrations or other social events)” — then it was somewhat obvious that people would soon be carrying on as if it were New Orleans. This was at 2:30 pm on a Tuesday in May, which was probably why I noticed it:
The six-foot thing was point five of the governor’s executive order (“[b]usinesses and entities that provide other essential services must implement rules that help facilitate social distancing of at least six feet”) and this NYC Department of Health PSA poster says “when you go out for essential needs, work, or to get fresh air, keep distance between yourself and others.” I began to veer into the street to get off the sidewalk when passing someone (and still have this habit on my block, interestingly). If there were more than three people in this meat store you had to wait outside:
This was from another bike ride into the city, on Thursday, May 14 — first by Domino Park in Williamsburg. Point four of the NYS on PAUSE order said “[w]hen in public individuals must practice social distancing of at least six feet from others.” Thus, the “Keep This Far Apart” guides:
. . . then over to the World Trade Center site — this was at about 9:30 a.m.:
And back over the Williamsburg Bridge — we were the only people it seemed:
On the way back, the line at Costco went beyond the parking lot — note the six-foot guides on the sidewalk:
The bubble tea place offered the kids some very minor occasional luxury. The plastic everywhere I think was a response to the idea that spittle could fly and hit you — at least I hope so, because I think by May there was enough information about how aerosolized viruses functioned:
The sign in the window of this taqueria refers to April 28th, the day the state eliminated the bag of chips requirement. This place is no longer in business:
The 4-0 Borussia Dortmund win over Schalke 04 in German Bundesliga soccer on May 16, 2020 was, if I recall correctly, the first professional game played after the worldwide shutdowns. It was a bizarre thing to watch — no fans, little sound (here’s more about that match). Eventually leagues like the Spanish La Liga soccer league added computer generated fans in their telecasts. Sports seemed stupid and pointless in 2020 (and I say this as someone who watches a lot of sports):
Meanwhile, restaurant wholesalers, having lost a chunk of their business during the pandemic, started delivering to the general public, which was actually quite cool. This was our haul from an Asian food wholesaler:
Another bike ride, this time on Wednesday, May 20, to Alley Pond Park via Flushing, Queens. I don’t think I’m cherry picking scenes but normally bustling Main Street was rather subdued, thought there was some foot traffic:
Farther down Main Street in Flushing is the NewYork-Presbyterian Queens Hospital. This is the entrance on 56th Avenue, with the distinctive “Covid tent” that hospitals installed to either screen patients or treat them safely outside the facility itself:
Again, keeping this far apart:
Cuomo’s NYS on PAUSE did not mention masking, but side by side with the NYS on PAUSE was something Cuomo called “Matilda’s Law,” which was named for his mother and not a law but rather an executive order. This did address masking, but only as it related to protecting “vulnerable populations” (including individuals age 70 and older, those with compromised immune systems and those with underlying illnesses). In this case, it required vulnerable populations to mask when around others and have others mask when around members of the vulnerable population. Maybe this was what predicated the “my mask protects you/your mask protects me” concept and the various “signs of respect”.
Sometime between March and May, the masking guidance expanded to “Cover Your Face In Public,” about which highway signs reminded drivers (there wasn’t much traffic to warn about, thus the PSAs):
“Outside With No Mask? Fuhgeddaboutit”:
There was an idea early on to “shelter in place.” In California, for example, it meant literally don’t go outside unless you have to get groceries or some such. New York never quite got there but Cuomo did ask people to “remain indoors to the greatest extent”. Elsewhere there was a sense of limiting travel, even by car (“Given the strain we already have on our health care systems we don’t want people flocking to one place, getting sick, and then placing even more of a strain on the health care system” a doctor explained). It was self-evident that limiting contact with people perhaps prevented transmission, but limiting travel for its own sake eventually made little sense — so one day we went to the beach:
This was the Friday before Memorial Day, so we took the kids out of the dreary online “school” and played at the beach, where there was hardly anyone to begin with. Something I noticed at some trip to the beach around then (but it doesn’t seem like I took a picture of) was a lone person in a mask sitting at least a hundred feet from anyone else. I was starting to get the sense that this was breaking people’s brains. I remember feeling euphoric at the beach (I mean, going to the beach is fun but not exactly “euphoric”) — I told everyone how great it was to be out there and how few people were around. It was a great day and I’m glad we played hooky.
Out of curiosity, I just checked to see if that was the first time we drove somewhere and it in fact was. In retrospect, I feel some amount of embarrassment and regret that it took us two months to pack the kids into a car to leave the neighborhood; this is not normal. After Memorial Day we went more places, met up with friends in parks, did stuff like go to the dentist, etc. And by July 4 weekend we traveled to New Jersey to visit the grandparents — but that initial two-month period was really very much spent at home for the most part.
Wash Hands With Soap:
Wednesday, May 27, biking over the Robert F. Kennedy/Triborough Bridge to Manhattan about 8:45 a.m. — We Have Just One Ask When In Public Wear A Mask:
Getting to the George Washington Bridge via the Harlem River Drive in seven minutes will likely never happen again in our lifetimes, much less on a Wednesday morning at 8:45 a.m.:
I understand the impulse to remain cheery with sing-songy rhymes, but they quickly became cloying . . .
Biking between the Queens and Manhattan spans of the RFK/Triborough Bridge takes you through Randall’s Island and past Icahn Stadium where the refrigerated trucks for Covid dead were stationed:
Continuing the May 2020 Tour of Vacant New York City, here is 125th Street, Manhattan, Wednesday, May 27, 2020:
Social Distance Guidelines, West Drive at Central Park North in Central Park, May 27, 2020:
59th Street at Fifth Avenue, Grand Army Plaza, Midtown Manhattan, Wednesday, May 27, 2020, 9:37 a.m.:
Looking West Down 59th Street From Fifth Avenue, Grand Army Plaza, Midtown Manhattan, Wednesday, May 27, 2020, 9:40 a.m.:
And then back into Queens, past the Costco where people were lining up:
But eventually the Costco lines got shorter:
Another trip to the beach:
June 4, 2020:
Street vendors selling PPE and rubbing alcohol alongside the normal costume jewelry and incense:
Also June 4, 2020 — see above note about New Orleans:
I normally don’t “notice” when people draw dicks on stuff, at least to the point of wanting to remember it with a photo, but I enjoyed this:
“Phase 2” of reopening New York meant that barber shops and beauty salons could serve customers on June 22, 2020 — this was the line in front of a barber shop on Ditmars Boulevard that day:
Outdoor dining was also part of Phase 2:
Something New York Funny — ubiquitous street fair versus ubiquitous outdoor dining shed; outdoor dining shed wins:
Thank You and We Are All In This Together:
By July it seemed like the “good” toilet paper was back:
One positive thing we did accomplish was finally teaching the kids how to ride a bike:
Forget where this came from, but September 2020:
Governor Cuomo allowed museums to open as of August 24 with reduced capacity and timed tickets, and many opened that week. The Museum of Modern Art was free for the first month it reopened, courtesy Uniqlo, and we took advantage of it. That was the first time we took a subway with the kids — interesting to me were the outdated ads in the stations, for one, and the feeling we were doing something forbidden by even taking the subway (as mentioned above, brains: fried).
When we got to MoMA it seemed like we were mostly alone; I was trying to explain to the kids that unless they somehow became Michael Bloomberg in life, they will likely never experience this again. It was amazing:
The only downside was since we were almost literally the only ones in the building, the security guards kept chasing after the boys telling them not to get too close to anything.
We visited MoMa on September 8, just after Labor Day. Normally the kids would have been in school but the teacher’s union forced the city to delay the start of school until September 21. In-person school was further delayed until the end of September.
The hiccups and delay in starting school meant we got to do other sightseeing in early- to mid-September 2020, including the Museum of Natural History on September 17, 2020! As cool as it was to have personal time with MoMA’s wall-to-ceiling Jackson Pollock canvases, you should get a load what it’s like to be alone with the giant blue whale in the Milstein Hall of Ocean Life. Unforgettable:
The Natural History Museum closed every other sink in the restrooms to preserve “social distancing” guidelines:
Never saw the Fourth Floor Fossil rooms this empty. Big Basil E. Frankweiler energy:
Outside of the Natural History Museum and into Central Park, where, back to reality, playgrounds were festooned with whimsical yellow tape. Look closely at the slide on the right, for example:
Now, to be fair, New York was better than a lot of places in terms of kids returning to school. Mayoral control of the schools in New York City started under Bloomberg and it was probably the most important reason schools reopened as relatively quickly as they did — DeBlasio really seemed to push to reopen the schools and (as much as it pains me to say this!) when history judges, this will probably stand as one of his big successes. Further, New York City did much better than cities like San Francisco and Los Angeles, which did not reopen until well into 2021 (that said, Chicago, which also has mayoral control, was notoriously slow to reopen — perhaps the governing structure isn’t as absolute as in NYC). On the other hand, let’s be clear — the whole thing was awful and should stand as an embarrassing indictment of how major US cities are governed. Let’s agree that this should never, ever happen again.
Ultimately, our kids were neither young enough nor old enough to be scarred by the whole thing (they were ages six and eight in March 2020), if that makes sense. At one point early on one of them asked us what coronavirus was like when we were kids — which is to say, they seemed mostly resilient and I think ultimately we were good at balancing the normal and abnormal aspects of life.
School itself in 2020-21 was a hybrid mix of online and in-person classes (there was also an all-remote option). When in person, the kids were contained in one classroom and had to wear masks all day except when eating pared-down “grab ‘n’ go” brown-bag breakfasts and lunch. Actually keeping the schools open required Covid rates to stay low; the threat of closing the system loomed if the city testing percentage ever went above a certain threshold (I played my part by getting tested for no particular reason — can’t remember how many times I did that but I got to know the different sites around us).
The 2020-21 school year started out with two days of in-person instruction per week:
Parents had to fill out a health questionnaire each morning and take a screenshot to show to school employees on the way into the schoolyard:
Election Day 2020 — masks and social distancing and with mail-in ballots and early voting, our precinct was not particularly busy:
More PPE litter, this time in Pelham Bay Park in the Bronx, November 2020:
Certain mandates were yet to come but other mandates were in place (see also “Poster Demands that Upper West Siders Listen to a Lot of Fiona Apple Music,” West Side Rag, October 16, 2020″):
By mid-November the city’s daily test positivity rate exceeded the 3 percent seven-day average threshold, triggering a shutdown of the schools on November 18. I guess I didn’t test enough after all:
That weekend we went back to the beach. I don’t specifically know if this was because of Covid, but “checking the roll before you commit” is good advice in general:
It is nice to maintain a sense of humor, especially around the holiday season:
You were required to wear a mask on the subway until September 2022. This was from February 2021:
This was a new one for me — a “Dual System Check Temperature & Mist Body Shower” at a glorified corner store in the neighborhood. You stepped toward it and it took your temperature while also spraying some sort of disinfectant at you. I’ve looked online and not been able to figure out its provenance. I thought it was funny to get misted whenever I shopped here.
By April 2021 the social distance floor decals were starting to become a little ratty:
I talk about noticing things — what I actually noticed here were the lovely cherry blossoms on the pavement. What mostly hid in the background is one of the many ugly outdoor dining sheds that by this point were all over the neighborhood. (Some of the most egregious examples I stewed about but never thought to photograph — takeout cafes that expanded their seating by like 500 percent, etc.):
Masked and campaigning in the schoolyard:
Moving to the Hudson Valley? Many supposedly did during 2021!
For a while we had (free!) testing tents on two corners at the same intersection:
May 30, 2021 — vaccines afforded certain freedoms . . . like the freedom from having to wear ineffective surgical masks inside the grocery store:
Spamming entire subway cars with guidance on how to wear a mask over your mouth *and* your nose passed for an important public service announcement at one point there. The message written on the character’s mask on the larger sign reads “Masks Are Like Opinions, Everyone Should Have One”:
The same spot where the Masks Are Like Opinions (and assholes?) message was one month later read “Save The Life of Someone You Don’t Even Know.” I think this PSA implies that people might actually die if you do not wear a mask on the subway — the messaging on masking moved subtly and rather completely, and perhaps it’s unsurprising you still see people wearing them:
An outdoor dining shed — One interesting/silly aspect of the outdoor dining sheds was that when the city repaved roads they simply cut around the sheds, so that now the ghosts of long-gone sheds remain in unevenly patched asphalt:
Setting up for a socially distanced pre-K “Stepping Up” ceremony:
Some parts of the city seemed to feel more strongly about the utility of the vaccines. This, for example, was in Park Slope, and before the mayor announced various vaccine mandates in August:
Then again, here is also Brooklyn, this time in Greenpoint and after the mayor’s vaccine mandate. The notice was tucked away in the bathroom and scribbled upon:
Guidelines to reopen sports and recreation had been in place since the winter/spring of 2021, and our volunteer soccer league mandated masks (which only sometimes covered the kids’ mouths and noses):
The 2021-22 school year began all in-person, but with triggers to shift to remote education if, for example, someone in a class tested positive, which happened to one of our kids just a week after the school year began:
This set off a flurry of tests . . .
. . . and a visit to one of the city’s several free Covid PCR testing sites, this one in the ground floor of a new parking garage at LaGuardia Airport . . .
. . . and followed by daily text message check-ins with the city’s Test & Trace Corps:
In August Mayor DeBlasio instituted the “Key to NYC Pass” that required proof of vaccination for workers and customers age 12 and older at indoor dining, gyms, and places of entertainment (e.g., movie theaters) and performances (e.g., Broadway theaters, most of which already had a vaccine requirement in place). “‘This is a miraculous place literally full of wonders,’ Mr. de Blasio said. ‘If you’re vaccinated, all that’s going to open up to you. But if you’re unvaccinated, unfortunately you will not be able to participate in many things.'”:
Between the contagious Omicron variant and holiday travel, the line to get tested at one of the local urgent care places was down the block in mid-December 2021:
This Starbucks switched to reduced hours after DeBlasio expanded the vaccine mandate to include private companies (and also mandated vaccinations for children age 5 to 11 in order to participate in “high-risk extracurricular activities” like “sports, band, orchestra, and dance,” including swim lessons):
Our local bank branch closed temporarily because of the mandate:
DeBlasio’s successor, Eric Adams, rescinded the indoor dining mandate in March 2022 and the workplace vaccination mandate in November 2022.
This “iHealth” Covid test had you log in on an app, which was weird:
We finally got Covid, like confirmed actual Covid, during Omicron, in mid-January 2022. Had to get a PCR result for an excused absence at school, so we opted for a saliva test at the Queens Museum, which was both easier and more gross:
Regular testing was a condition of keeping the schools open, though parents could opt out. We allowed our kids to get tested, and since the pool was relatively small, they seemed to get tested often:
Chinese-language vaccination PSA on a Staten Island Railway car in April 2022:
I think most people agree that the Covid era in New York eventually just either mostly receded or basically faded into the background. Here’s an email from the soccer league reminding parents not to show up to matches if they have Covid:
That said, once in a while something caught my eye, like another silly social distance floor decal, this one from April 2022:
When the federal government announced the end of the public health emergency in May 2023 it meant, among other things, Covid testing stopped being free:
Federal funding for Covid vaccines continued into 2024; these Moderna ads ran during a Mets game in June 2024:
I have passed by this Afghani restaurant literally hundreds of times the past three or four years and never thought about the vestigal vaccine requirement notice taped in the window until one morning in March 2025. It was just after the Daylight Saving Time time change and the sun shone brightly just below the elevated tracks on the way to school, briefly illuminating the notice that would have been posted after the August 2021 DeBlasio order. Years later you still see these notices around (obviously unenforced). I assume that people just forgot take them down, but who knows.
