Black Americans Share Stories of COVID-19 Grief

As hospitals offered goodbyes with iPads, and funeral homes were able to bury the dead without any services at all, the COVID-19 epidemic began, leaving families in a unique, isolating state of grief..
This buried grief, which was 1.9 times greater than that of white Americans at the beginning of the pandemic caused by COVID-19, is part of a long history unacknowledged suffering. Black Americans are subject to discrimination medically since slavery. Scientific journals had previously claimed that Black people were more sensitive to pain. However, today, with the maternal death rate for Black women at 2.9x that of white women. The pandemic—and the racial justice reckoning that erupted after the death of George Floyd—only magnified many of the structural inequities that left Black Americans more vulnerable.
Andrea Ellen Reed was a photographer who drove from Minneapolis to Peoria in Illinois to photograph and interview Black Americans. She did this to document the lives of five Midwest families that had lost their loved ones to COVID-19. “You don’t always see stories about Black people in the Midwest,” says Reed, who wanted to document people and landscapes that were familiar to her. “There are some really powerful stories of everyday people that wouldn’t necessarily be told.”
The U.S. reported its first COVID-19-related death in May. Now, an estimated 9 million families are attempting to move forward without spouses, parents, grandparents, siblings, and children—and often without having been able to truly say goodbye. Here are some personal stories, edited for clarity.

Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison (whose mother Clida Ellison Ellison passed away on March 26, 2020 aged 82) She was among the first COVID-19-related midwest deaths.
Our family grew up in Detroit’s transitional neighborhood. So, you know, our neighbors were some white folks who might might have been a little uncomfortable with, you know, how the neighborhood was changing and were saying “those Ellison boys over there, maybe they’re a gang. And my mom would walk up to them saying “These are my boys. The oldest is six years old. They’re not a gang. Please don’t tell the neighbors that my sons are a gang. They’re nice boys. This is Leonard. This is Brian. Keith. If they ever do anything you don’t like, you let me know.” And after that, that guy was nice to us.
Hers was one of the first to arrive in Detroit. COVID-19 at that time was rampant and numbers were extremely disparate. My mom’s a Black woman, and so for her to be in Detroit with COVID through the roof, I kind of feel that she was a victim of the overall marginalization of Black lives during the pandemic.
My mother was 82 years old when I died. She was an amazing woman who came into the world to make the most of her time. It is a good thing to be this lucky.

Cassandra Greer Lee, the wife of Nickolas Lee, died April 12, 2020, at 42 years old. Nickolas was at Cook County Jail in a pretrial setting when he received COVID-19.
Early on in the pandemic, when the news would report COVID deaths from Cook County Jail, it would label them as “detainee number one” and “detainee number two.”
The call came on April 12th at 4:20 am from John Stroger Hospital. It informed me that my husband wasn’t here. So I dialed Channel 7 and requested a photograph of him. He was recognizable and had a loving family. And I didn’t want him to be labeled as “detainee number three.”
In the end, they did call him by his name—”Nicholas Lee, 42 years old, was the third person to die of COVID at the Cook County Jail”—and I will forever be grateful for that.

Akeya Watley was the daughter of veteran Erving Burkes. She died April 20th, 2020, at age 74. Burkes came in contact with COVID-19 as he was a resident at an assisted-living facility.
The director informed me that a female had moved into the facility and she was positive for COVID. He also said that the lady was already in quarantine and was therefore not to be concerned. However, I was notified by another phone call that his results had been positive. At first I wasn’t concerned because my father has had two quadruple bypass surgeries, two strokes, and I’m like, okay, he’s going to beat this, too.
This nurse was my first visit to the hospital. The patient was not my dad, but a normal African-American man with tubes all over. Then I became agitated and began to weep. A nurse from Africa helped me locate my father. He had no tubes and could talk, smile, and be happy. However, when he had to cough, he would shout in pain. On my last visit, a nurse promised me that she wouldn’t let him die alone. The nurse sighed and returned to his room. But he had already passed away. He died alone. It felt like he was stolen from me, like I didn’t get the opportunity to say goodbye the way that I wanted to.

Pamela and Roy Clayton’s son Russell Angelo ‘LoLo’ Porter died on April 29, 2020 at 47. LoLo, who was a resident of a nursing home with disabilities due to meningitis, died on April 29, 2020 at 47.
A call came from the facility stating that Angelo had test positive for COVID. There were eight people in Angelo’s home, eight in Angelo’s and sixteen in Angelo’s. All 16 had positive COVID tests.
The emergency room doctor called me when my son arrived at hospital and told me that your son was extremely sick. Then we were all [at home]His heart was stopped when I called him. They were trying to resuscitate him for about 10 minutes, but they couldn’t get his heart going again—I was on the phone with the doctor and I could hear them in the background trying to resuscitate my son. It was the worst thing about not being there to hold him hand and say goodbye. This was our worst day.
Some days, I’ll be fine and I’ll think about him and I won’t cry. It’s progress. And then two days later, I’m crying on the way to work because a thought randomly pops in my head. I think everybody grieves differently and maybe we’re thinking his funeral services would help us with acceptance– or maybe even with a service, we would just continue on the same path, in the same time frame.

Sokonie Reed was the mother of Enid Z.Freeman, who died May 9, 2020 at 54. Freeman worked as a nurse in the frontlines during the initial stages of the pandemic.
As a nurse she was on the frontlines of the epidemic. When she wasn’t at work, she was careful to wear her mask. We suspect that she contracted it at her job because at her job, there were several confirmed cases there, and that was early on when we didn’t really know too much about the virus and, you know, maybe people weren’t taking it as seriously as they should?
My mother had COVID-19 and my doctor admitted her to the hospital. However, he said that it wasn’t possible. He said they were only doing it because of her young age and because she’s “one of us,” and that regardless of how it went, they just wanted to say they “did everything.”
We thought we had a strong, close-knit family, but now that she’s gone, we’re now having to navigate and find different ways of trying to connect—she was that bridge on all sides.

Ilhan Omar (U.S. Representative), whose father Nur Omar Mohamed, died June 15, 2020 at the ripe old age of 67. Mohamed, who was traveling through Kenya at the same time as COVID-19’s first reported cases in America, returned home to the U.S.
The COVID-19 virus was first starting to be talked about in the news, and we didn’t really know much about it. When my father was still in Kenya, he called me to let me know he was returning to America because this was an election season for him. It’s been hard thinking back to that conversation because the number of deaths we’ve had here, even just in Minneapolis in comparison to Nairobi, is so high. It is most likely that he would have been more secure in Nairobi.
He phoned me and said that the doctor had told him that his COVID level was high and that he may be considering going to hospital. As I was about to attend a rally for George Floyd’s death, he called me. And I said, I’m going to stop by this rally and I’ll come see you and we’ll figure out what to do. I walked to the rally. And an hour later, my sister called and she said, “there’s an ambulance taking dad to the hospital.”
Many people were endangered by deliberate actions. You know that there are treatments available which might have been beneficial in my father’s recovery. But there was such a shortage and we were literally picking and choosing whose lives were worthy of protection and whose weren’t.
I think if he didn’t die of COVID, we probably would have taken our father back to his birthplace of Somalia so he could have been buried with my mother and his ancestors.

Rosie Ruth Morrow (married) and Jerry Louis Morrow (63 years old, November 22nd, 2020), died within 12 hours. Below are Steven Harris and Frida Harris–Hobbs and Saterrica Harris (their granddaughter), who remembers how close Rosie was to Jerry.
My grandma was truly afflicted by heartbreak. They had known each other since the 1980s. You could always see the changes in their dynamic when something happened between them.
We were not able to attend the funeral, and it was more complicated than we expected. It was limited to 30 people at once due to social distancing laws. My grandma also has over 30 grandchildren. It was 80 people who showed up, and people were moving in and out.

Francesca A. Armmer was an associate professor at Bradley University of Nursing. Ruby Diane Booker, her cousin, died Jan. 7, 2021 at age 78. Booker had been researching African American genealogy and history before her passing.
I’ve had to get to the point where I could forgive myself. It was because I had missed certain events. And I missed being able to talk with her because she was quite the historian-slash-genealogist. Her great-grandfather was a Civil War soldier. Her death made me think, “Oh my God, if only I had the chance to speak with her and see all of the other interesting things that she discovered.” I never got to read about them.
To be truly sad takes energy. Our attention span is so short that we are unable to pay much attention to the existence and value of human beings. Every day, individuals are dying. But it’s old news. And in reality, it’s not old news. It won’t be outdated. It is a pride to know your family’s history and, especially for Black families, it can be celebrated.

Laverne McCartney Knighton was the sister of Herbert Lee McCartney, who died Jan. 16, 2021 in his 69th year. Knighton regretted not being in a position to say goodbye to his brother.
It was difficult, I tell you, to not even be able to bury loved ones in the form and fashion that we Black people are used to doing—having a full blown church service and everybody there and then having a repast.
My brother was my protector, my antagonist, my calm, my irritant, my laughter, my front, my back—just my brother. This was our journey together. Oh, how I wish that I could physically have been there for him as he took his final breath, thanking God. It’s over. It is over. You were my dearest friend in death. I love you still.

Theresa Neal’s “sister cousin” Sabra Mitchell, and Sabra’s son Travon, were both hospitalized with COVID-19 in January 2021. Sabra died at the tender age of 62 on February 1, 2021. After being placed in an induced state for many weeks, Travon, 39 years old, opened his eyes.
Travon was admitted to the hospital after two weeks. The staff continued providing medical assistance for Travon. But Sabra’s decline came within a couple of days. Our focus was on praying for the health and well-being of Travon, and I needed for Sabra to know that it was okay to rest—and that we will do all that we could for her family. My belief was that that’s what she needed to hear, that a mother’s love is powerful and strong and that she waited and endured it until she knew her son was going to be okay.
Now, he is in recovery. The medical team has said there are no medical reasons for his recuperation given his critically ill condition.
What’s etched in my mind was that at the time of her death, there was so much media publicity on the bigger picture—about the U.S. approaching 500,000 deaths. This number meant something to me, it had an effect on somebody else. The 500,000 mark also included my beloved one.
—Julianna Olesen also reports and produces.
National Geographic Society provided funding for this project.
Listen to audio recordings in depth of subjects speaking in their own words. https://www.andreaellenreed.com/black-covid.
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