Crystal Wise
As of this writing, it’s been a little more than a month since COVID-19 came to Fort Worth, bringing with it an ominous cloud of uncertainty. Politicians and lawmakers have scrambled to institute regulations to keep us safe and keep us home. Businesses have closed. People have lost their jobs. If you’re working, you’re working from your couch. The boredom is killing you. And, being the feisty Fort Worthians we are, we’ve spent as much time abiding by these rules as we have arguing about them, mainly on social media because, you know, social distancing. One thing is certain, though: We are surviving. Our city is surviving. The work of those on the frontlines has been imperative to our survival — doctors, nurses, paramedics, police officers, firemen. Our city bows to you. Others in the community are doing equally important work — work that keeps our city going, our spirits up. Their work is more behind the scenes, but it’s no less impactful. Meet these seven individuals, who may just save our city.
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Haritha Pingili, pharmacist
It’s not hard to get Haritha Pingili, a pharmacist at Hall’s Specialty Pharmacy near the heart of the Medical District — the epicenter of our city’s fight against COVID-19 — to wax poetic about the necessity to wear masks and maintain good hygiene. It’s becoming part of her job to talk customers off the proverbial ledge and educate them about how to avoid the virus that, at this time, has eluded doctors and scientists.
“Everyone is very scared, and they don’t know what’s going on,” Haritha says. “There’s no vaccine or proper medication for [COVID-19], so people are feeling a lot of anxiety and stress.
“I try to educate my customers to wash their hands and keep their social distancing. I also stress taking immunity boosters such as fruit and medications and supplements like zinc. I definitely see a lot of change, but, slowly, from that scary mode, we will fight on, and we pray to God that this will soon end.”
These days, being on the front lines of keeping people safe and healthy might be the most essential vocation in the world. And the 43-year-old couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
“Even in high school, I wanted to understand how medications work,” she says. “I chose pharmacy as a career because I have a passion for it.”
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Elvira Sakmari, producer and digital director
Elvira Sakmari spends her days now much like you do, at home, clicking, swiping, trying to figure out in this strange new world what is fact and what is fiction.
These days, with a scientist-stumping virus sweeping through the city, that’s no easy task. But it’s Sakmari’s area of expertise. As a longtime producer and digital director at Fort Worth-based TV station NBC, she is charged with leading the station’s digital news coverage, often the landing pad for stories before they graduate to the evening news. The 49-year-old journalist helps uncover the truth, in other words, at a time when facts are a rare — and possibly our most invaluable — commodity.
“We’re out to find the truth; it’s as simple as that,” she says from her home office, where, remotely, she leads a team of nine. “People get their news from all kinds of different sources — Facebook, Twitter, wherever, and maybe that news is true and maybe it isn’t. For me, I still believe in true journalism, reported by real journalists, because that’s what people need right now.”
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Kenneth “Bobby” Burns, truck driver
Next time you’re picking out a loaf of bread, or deciding what pasta to pair with your fish tonight, or debating the brand of flour tortillas you want, give thought to the man who, quite possibly, allowed you to make those decisions.
This is Kenneth “Bobby” Burns, a truck driver who transports one item and one item only: flour. Fifty thousand pounds of it.
Six days a week, Burns drives from his home in Glen Rose to Saginaw for an even tougher commute: His route for Foodliner Inc. takes him from Saginaw to San Antonio, where he delivers his 50Ks of flour, used primarily for ramen noodles but also for various bread products.
A few months ago, our nation’s truck drivers were unsung heroes, the men and women who made sure, quietly with no fanfare, you had what you needed to live. But now the people who transport goods along the veins of our country are getting the recognition they deserve.
Not that Burns, 58, wants it.
“I don’t feel special; it’s just my job,” he says. “I’ve been doing it for 40 years. It’s just something I’ve always done.”
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La Dora Nursing and Rehab Center
Ms. Frances recently celebrated her 100th birthday at La Dora Nursing and Rehab Center in Bedford, where she resides. Relatives brought cards and wore party hats, and there was a white cake trimmed in blue frosting emblazoned with the words, “Happy 100th Birthday.”
But the celebrators and the celebrated were divided by a cruel reality: a closed window. Relatives, gathered on the nursing home’s front porch, could only look in; Ms. Frances, likewise, could only look out.
It’s a scene that perfectly illustrates what life is like in a nursing facility in 2020, and the efforts nursing homes are making to help ease the challenges.
La Dora is owned by Matthew and Breanna King, and the couple has put into place a number of safeguards to keep staff, guests, and residents safe. The Kings also know social interaction is vital to the lifeblood of their residents. Instead of canceling a birthday party, for example, they simply retool it to fit social distancing regulations.
The Kings are determined, they say, to keep spirits high during a time when that sentiment seems like a pipe dream.
“It’s been a bit of a transition for them,” Breanna says. “Social distancing means no communal dining, no regular group activities. But we’ve figured out ways to engage them. We have hallway bingo, where everyone stays apart, and they’re able to see their loved ones, either through modern technology or here through glass. We’re doing our best to keep smiles on their faces.”
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Johnny Lopez, auto mechanic
With a chunk of society sheltering in place, a large number of essential employees (like the ones we’re profiling in this feature) continue their daily commute to work. And it’s people like Johnny Lopez, the 30-year-old co-owner and mechanic at J & N Auto Service, off Park Place Avenue, who ensure these workers have a mode of transportation to safely travel to their jobs.
What’s more essential than making sure the essential can continue being … essential?
While Johnny admits that things have gotten a little slower since the pandemic, it’s still business as usual for J & N Auto Service — except with a face mask, gloves, and social distancing. Though it’s easy to become preoccupied with our own health, we can’t ignore the health of the things that make our city operate.
“We get people coming in for inspection, oil changes, brakes make noises, or their check engine light is on,” Johnny says. “You got your doctors that have to get to work, and most of them live far away so they have to drive. And if their car’s not up and running, they’re not going make it to work.”
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Daphine Dean, food service manager
Echoing what happened to many of us, COVID-19 sideswiped the life and world of Daphine Dean, a 45-year-old food service manager at Presbyterian Night Shelter, which serves three meals a day to the men, women, and children of Fort Worth’s homeless community.
Practically overnight, she went from seeing all of her longtime “guests” to just a fraction of them. Social distancing meant not as many people could be served. For Dean, who has worked at the shelter for a decade, that struck a nerve.
“When you can’t help as many people as you’re used to helping, it hurts,” she says. While a makeshift shelter was set up at the Tarrant County Convention Center to help serve others, Dean still missed seeing them. “I’ve known a lot of these people for a long time. Some of them are my friends.”
Dean’s work, as low key as it is, has been integral to keeping the city’s homeless population alive and well. It’s a behind-the-scenes type of job, not a frontline position. Even before COVID-19 struck, she was, in a way, wearing a mask.
“It’s not a high-profile job, but it’s an important one,” she says. “But I think what’s more important to me is how this job keeps me humble and grounded. I’m around people who are just like me. They once had jobs and then something happened. There’s always a chance that I, or anyone, could be in the same position, especially with the way the world is now.”
