The year 2020 was challenging for me in a couple ways. Like so many others, the pandemic lockdown kept me home for several months. I continued school online with my local university and waited for it all to be over. As summer rolled around, my family had decided that if we were going to be isolated from others, we might as well do it somewhere we love. We spent the better part of our summer at my great grandfather’s cabin at Huntington Lake in the High Sierras. It was a fairly quiet season at the lake considering California was still under many restrictions. Shortly after our last visit, the Creek Fire started. The fire burned nearly 380,000 acres of the Sierra National Forest for about four months. Within a week of the beginning of the fire, we lost our family cabin and the historic general store, Cressman’s, that our cousins had just taken over. Our family was devastated, and it is still a very painful memory. I am, however, incredibly grateful for the last summer we got to spend there. In a strange way, the COVID-19 pandemic offered our family a small blessing in disguise. Since the lockdown required many to reduce work hours, a number of friends and family members had the opportunity to visit the cabin one last time. This photograph is a reminder of a very bittersweet summer. Although 2020 proved to be an especially challenging year, the pandemic allowed my family to make its final memories of our second home before it was gone.

Prior to the world-stopping "Covid Times," my friends and I had planned to travel to Boston, MA. We were going to watch a Braves v. Red Sox game, visit Salem and the Freedom Trail in Boston. We had tickets, airfare, lodging etc. Then the world shut down. Because of life circumstances, we had to delay further after the world opened back up, and decided to shift gears and take a different trip. This would be a Civil Rights trip in the Summer of 2023. Again, life circumstances created the need to adjust. Two members of our group (half of us) were no longer able to travel, so myself and the other member of our group went. The trip was great. We flew into NC, then drove to Charleston where we spent a couple days. It was great because we were able to visit several places which were very impactful to both of us. McLeod Plantation was a wonderful & educational experience. We were given a fantastic guided tour where we learned much about the enslaved people who made the plantation function, and then about their descendants, some of whom lived there until the 1990's. We also visited the Old Slave Mart which was one of the most prominent sites in Charleston for slave sales. It has now been turned into a museum and memorial. From Charleston, we visited Savannah. We were only there about 12 hours, but were able to visit the house of a very prominent slave trader and see the living and working quarters of the people enslaved there. From there, we went to Atlanta (I got to watch a game at Truist Park!) for the night, and then on to Montgomery. If we could do it again, I would spend much more time in Montgomery. We visited the Legacy Museum which was, in a phrase, life changing. The experience was phenomenal and extremely visceral. I think it is something every American should experience at least once. We spent the whole day, and barely scratched the surface. And that was just the museum and monument. From Montgomery we drove to Selma and were able to walk the Edmund Pettus Bridge. We also drove around town a little and were able to see some of the churches, and neighborhood that were so influential in the Civil Rights Movement and the powerful Selma to Montgomery March. From there, we went to Memphis where we visited the National Civil Rights Museum. That was also a wonderful experience. This was such an awe-inspiring trip. It was very quick, but it was fantastic. It is a trip that I would take again though next time for longer.

This story discusses my trip to Disney and Florida following the pandemic, and the lasting effects it had on me, society, and the world as we knew it, as well as the differences among people in how they handled this event.

In October 2021, my wife and I went to Portugal for two weeks. It was our first trip since the start of the COVID-19 pandemic. We went to the southern coast of Portugal, the Algarve. Our purpose was a reconnaissance with an eye to relocation. We'd been toying with the idea of moving overseas for several years. Spain had long been at the top of our list––we spent almost three months in Andalusia a decade earlier and fell for the place––but the Spanish tax and import regulations were a bit difficult, so we looked next door to Portugal. Portugal had inviting tax and import regulations. By that October, Portugal's COVID-19 travel restrictions had eased. You just had to have up-to-date vaccines and documentation of a recently conducted, negative test. That was easy enough, so the time was right for getting on a plane. The more difficult thing was returning to the United States. For that, we had to get another COVID-19 test within hours of travel, it had to be of a certain type, and it had to be administered and certified by an approved agency. Fortunately, a company had cracked-the-code on meeting the requirements through online monitoring of a self-administered test. We bought and took with us three tests each––backups to the backups. The strangest-feeling part of the whole trip was the hours-long layover in Newark on the outbound leg. People were walking around without masks on, and we reluctantly took our masks off to eat. We had both received boosters of the Moderna vaccine, but we felt naked and vulnerable. We left our masks on throughout the flight. After landing in Lisbon, we got our rental car and drove a couple hours to Albufeira. It's a coastal town about dead-center on the southern coast. We stayed in a house, which we rented because we wanted to make our own meals. Portugal is not much of a culinary destination––the best meal we had in a restaurant was a simple margherita pizza. On top of that, we are vegetarians, and my wife has a shellfish allergy, neither of which works well in a food culture based upon seafood and pork. Also, because this was a reconnaissance with an eye to establishing residence, it was important to shop around and see the pricing and availability of goods. An unexpected opportunity to do some shopping came early in the trip. My wife and I had packed for the typical Algarve weather for this time of year: cool, windy, occasional rain. Instead, what we got was very hot and very dry. So, it was off to the mall to reconfigure our wardrobe. We found that we dislike Portuguese malls just as much as we dislike American malls. But we like beaches and long hiking trails, and the Algarve coastline has plenty of that. This is where Portugal shines: miles and miles of walkable beaches, and miles and miles of coastal trails. Our days were spent driving to, and then walking trails and beaches at, coastal destinations along the entirety of the Algarve coastline. We also like friendly people, and the Portuguese are definitely that. My wife and I have travelled extensively, typically staying in each destination a month or more, and the Portuguese are at the top of the friendliness scale. Two days before our departure, we took the US-mandated COVID-19 tests. We logged into an online teleconference system and self-administered our tests at the direction of a talking-head on the screen of our laptop computer. We both received negative test results, which we forwarded to the airline. Then we drove to Lisbon, where we spent our last two nights in a downtown hotel. We walked around the city for hours, quickly discovering that we had arrived on one of Portugal's many holidays. But we were impressed by Lisbon as a city that felt safe and walkable, much unlike typical American cities of similar size. Our return flight was easy on the Portuguese end. On the American end, we met the lines and discourtesy typical of the US customs process. Then we caught a connecting flight to Richmond, Virginia, and from there drove a couple late-night hours to our house in Tidewater Virginia. A year after this trip, we moved to Portugal. As I type this, we have been residents for seventeen months. We currently live in the Algarve, a twenty-minute drive from the house we rented in 2021. The long beaches and friendly people more than made up for the bland food and the trip to the mall.

Covid-19 was a surprising event that has shaken how many view the world. I am here now retelling my story on behalf of HNSC 2100, Fall 2020, M. Horlyck-Romanovsky. The pandemic has brought the worst in many. People were selfish, people took advantage of those who were desperate, and there were countless fights for small things in stores when it wasn't a big necessity. It brought me to think that humanity is really that selfish. But in a turn of things, it also brought together many people. Those who cared for one another were always there to talk to, sharing what they could and giving helpful advice to handle this pandemic. This leads me to my family and friends. When it first began, I was scared and felt all alone. My friends were the first ones I'd contact and first hear from. Worry washed over me when I realized there were certain friends I rarely talked to, making me want to go through who I had contact with and those I didn't. Time felt short and precious as you see many people's lives ending too soon because of this virus. In a sense, it made me value life more. While this opened my eyes to one side of life, it also opened my views to another part of life. When there is a more significant issue, those in power still refuse to do what is for the greater good, but instead for profits. What could have been a perfect time to provide resources and funds to marginalized and those in poverty communities they desperately need to prepare for a foreseeable shutdown? Instead, nothing was done for a while, and jobs were taken away to keep everyone at home. There was money to use, especially in bigger businesses and the Government, but it needed to be seen as profitable. What was worse about this was that I actually worried that the Government wouldn't have money in general, but looking into how more prominent corporations asked for millions, if not billions, in compensation for lost revenue, which they did receive in the end, made me extremely upset at the priorities of where our society is. Not only first losing faith in humanity but also in our own governmental structures. I wanted to grow up to work at these more prominent corporations due to their fame and how they represent themselves. But seeing this and the lack of giving back for the greater good, I have lost interest in even being associated with these types of corporations. One big thing that did come from all this chaos was the need to advocate for the smaller groups of people who can't or are afraid to speak up. I now want to work in a place where we can easily provide feedback/assistance to communities that are being impacted but not cared for. I take inspiration from my friends who have been there by my side, taking time when they could and always showing their support. Without them, I couldn't have gone through the pandemic with my sanity intact. While on the topic of sanity, the ways that the cost of living and prices of food went up at such a dire time of need were the most insane part of this pandemic. No one can afford food; it is clear no one is willing to spend on higher quality foods, and it's going to waste, so in turn, the prices would go down, right? No. The entire industry would rather destroy their own crops than give them away at dirt-cheap prices when it would have benefited everyone. Getting rid of the excess waste while making some money for selling it cheaply and the people can actually eat healthily as the prices plummet due to an abundance of this resource. Being a good defense against the virus if your immune system is at its peak! It infuriates me that this did not occur. My family struggled to make ends meet and put food on the table. It was the first time I had to reach out to food pantries, and I saw such long lines. It was a saddening sight to see. Every day, week, month, you'd see a line. Just how many really needed help, but no one could provide it. And when help did arrive, it was a measly couple hundred dollars or close to a thousand after half a year of suffering. If only food prices would have gone down as the entire world was going down, too, that would have been a blessing in itself. Even today, it is hard not to find myself using a food pantry. I wish I wasn't and didn't require these services, but it has become a regular occurrence ever since the pandemic. Now that it has quieted down while still occurring around the states and the world, the virus has taught us one thing. We must be ready to fend for ourselves; it is a sad truth, but it has become an untrustable and helpful place for the Government. I hoped we could move toward a better future, but this wasn't true. But that is what I took from this, and I plan to do work to combat and help others. The one good thing I see that came from this is my experience.

The sudden outbreak of the epidemic in 2019 caused me to experience many more firsts in my life: my first online class, the first time I needed to wear a mask when I went out, the first time I had to take my temperature to be sterilized when I went to the doctor, and the first time I graduated high school in quarantine. In just a few short months, the outbreak spread across multiple countries turning into a global resistance, with new cases and even deaths increasing every day. Schools were closed and students were told to stay home. When I saw these real and ever-growing numbers, it was not easy to feel good. But after all, I was just watching the data on my cell phone refreshing, in fact, I have not really felt the seriousness of this virus. Until I saw a video: a girl's father because infected with the virus, due to the development of too fast, the father in just a few days time passed away, the girl looked at her father's funeral car drove away, which really found that the father is really gone, never come back, the girl through the mask towards the police on duty at the roadside disappointed and helpless shouted out a sentence: I have no father! That was the first time I felt the horror of this virus. In addition to my automatic daily tracking of the latest progress of the case, social media was flooded with all sorts of bad news about the outbreak, including how it was spreading, the misery and agonizing struggles of the infected and their families, and so on. I was so worried about myself or my family members and friends being infected that I was constantly urging the elderly members of my family not to go out, so as not to be infected. At the same time, the frantic buying of masks, goggles, sterilizing alcohol, and so on, by many people was increasing the fear of the disease. As a result of the epidemic, I know that many people are suffering from mental health problems such as insomnia or anxiety. I am one of them.

This shows my point of view and experience to the pandemic

The item that I am a submitting is a short summary of my experience during Covid-19

The pandemic had caused us all to stay home, families were all living all day everyday together. For me this meant that I was spending more time with them, more than usual. Before the pandemic had started, my family ran on the same routine everyday, me and my siblings would go off to school, my mom is a stay at home mom so she would spend her time taking care of the house, and my dad would go off to work, he has his own construction business. The only time we were really home together as a family would be the hours my dad would be off of work from after around 7pm. When I was younger he would work many more hours, sometimes as long as 5am-8pm but the point is, he was barely ever home but to spend an hour or two with us and then he would sleep. I did have a good relationship with my dad and so many memories as well but the quality time wasn't really there. It is not like he didn't want to be around but it was that he wanted to work more while he was younger so that he could invest into his retirement and save up more while he can. Once the pandemic started, he was home with us much more. Of course this came with both pros and cons, such as having that quality time with him, but it also meant that there were much more disagreements since we were all together all day everyday. One of my favorite memories from those days were when we had ordered a whole lot of board games and jenga blocks to keep my younger brother entertained (and off of electronics as much as possible). My dad loves to bring in his construction wherever and whenever he can. He would take my brother's jenga blocks and make buildings with it and show off how he so thoughtfully made it so that it can actually hold weight and its not just good looking. The pandemic changed my dad's relevancy. Once lockdown was over, and he was back at work, he started working less hours making sure he would be home by 5pm or 6pm at most and he would spend his evenings with us again. The pandemic changed my life in many ways but my dad is always the first person I think of when I remember those days. He truly does try to stay as relevant in our lives as he can even when he is tired and it's great seeing the effort he puts in.

Being in high school going about my normal day and later finding out that we will not be attending school until further notice.

I feel like my mama story needs to be heard. We loss millions of people to it .

I intended to record the lived experience of the COVID-19 pandemic through the mundane details of our coping strategies, set against larger, national events.

Like so many others, I lived by myself and had to navigate the pandemic alone. Except that I was not truly alone. My cats kept me moored; an unwavering source of joy and companionship during those uncertain times. I took this photograph the day I decided to go back to college.

This is a photograph of my best friend, my mother. In December of 2020, we went to Disneyworld and came back with Covid-19. I was barely pregnant at the time, but my Covid symptom was only a cough. This cough would only hurt my uterus, so when I started to miscarry, I wasn’t too surprised. My mom, on the other hand, thought that her muscles were sore from walking around the parks for a few days. She had a cough and a bit of a fever, but was still walking around the house as we quarantined together. She was cold, which only ever happened when she was sick. One day, she didn’t leave her room because she was struggling to catch her breath if she did too much. She had me turn the heater on for her because of how cold she was under her blankets and comforter. She had been keeping her C-PAP machine on to give her the extra air support, but when we checked her oximeter, it was only at 70. So I called the paramedics like she asked me to, they came, we met them at the door, her vitals were taken, and they said that I could take her to the hospital or they could. I told her that I would drive. I had to take her to the emergency room that was not in our normal network because that’s what was open. I took her there with the expectation of getting her transferred the next day. When we called, the other hospital couldn’t take her because all of their beds were filled. So, she stayed there, and I couldn’t be with her because they were trying to keep the spread down. She was texting and FaceTiming me for the first 4 days that she was in the emergency room. On the 5th day though, she stopped responding. I called the hospital and they told me that she had spoken to her doctor and they had decided to put her on the ventilator to give her body a break for a few days. It was not a few days. On day 39 of her being on the ventilator, they lowered her sedation medication and she had no eye movement. So, I told them to let my brother go in and say his second final goodbye and to call me when they had ended her fight the next day. They called and said that she took a few seconds off of the ventilator before they called the time of her passing. I was alone now. My dad passed away in 2006 and my brother was a technical part of my family, but it was just me and my mom in the house still. Now, it was just me. A year later, I lost my home because I couldn’t get a loan approval to buy out my brother’s half of the equity. At that time, I was pregnant again with the baby girl that my mom dreamt of me having. This child that she had planned to be overly involved with, to play with, to snuggle, to kiss, and to have memories and adventures with. But now, the nursery would be someone else’s room. A stranger. Covid-19 took my baby, my mom, my house, my stability, and my will to love. I have been able to love my baby girl, but I am always comparing myself to my mother and thinking about how she could’ve been the best grandma. How she would’ve helped me. How we would’ve traveled to so many places together. And now, I struggle to pay rent on a single room. I leave my child at daycare 5 days a week and try to keep her there for each meal in case I don’t have enough to feed her. And I hide away from a lot of socializing because my mom was my favorite person to hang out with.

A haiku poem of my experience on the school day before quarantine started and when it was announced. This poem is important to me because it shows a high school student's perspective on the pandemic. Many did not know the meaning of the events occurring not knowing how it would impact the rest of our lives.

The pandemic, although ironic, was a positive transformation relative to my personal development. Coming from a state of repetitiveness with a boring senior year of high school and waiting tables at an Italian restaurant, the pandemic allowed an elongated state of decompression and self-actualization. This photo here highlights the entire experience. On April 29th, 2020, my two friends and I took advantage of the beautiful spring weather and headed out to the soccer fields with our masks, gloves, and 6 feet distancing. After 4 months of hard work and consistency, by August 29th, 2020 we created an online soccer platform inspiring and benefiting over 130,000 soccer players tuning in. Through this experience of digital marketing, but at the same time pursuing a passion and enjoying the moment, I learned more about the world and myself. The photograph is a picture of my 2 friends and I at the field where it all happened while styling our personal brand merchandise depicting the name of 'KMT Training'. P.S., KMT is our 3 nickname initials.

During the pandemic and quarantine, spending time with my cousin and friends became a lifeline amid the uncertainty that enveloped our lives. The isolation brought us closer, forging bonds that were resilient in the face of unprecedented challenges. During the lockdown me and my cousin still got to hangout a lot in person. We would do fun things like swimming and going to Taco Bell at 12 AM. I also had some online friends so I would video chat with them very frequently to pass time. We navigated the challenges of the pandemic together, sharing our fears and hopes, creating a support system that felt indispensable. As restrictions eased, cautious gatherings with friends became cherished moments. Our small circle provided a sense of normalcy in abnormal times. We'd organize outdoor activities, maintaining a safe distance yet reveling in the joy of each other's company. Laughter echoed louder than ever as we found solace in shared experiences. Navigating the challenges of online learning, my cousin and I became each other's sounding boards, helping one another adapt to the new normal. Late-night study sessions turned into opportunities to connect on a deeper level, fostering a bond that transcended familial ties. Our friendship withstood the test of time, proving that even a pandemic couldn't extinguish the flames of camaraderie. We explored new hobbies together – from baking cakes and cookies to attempting DIY projects. Each shared endeavor became a testament to our resilience and adaptability. Whenever we couldn't go outside we would watch movies, make tiktoks, and play games. Even during the pandemic one of our favorite places to go was still open. It is called Shadybowl Speedway. We would go there with my dad and her mom and watch cars race for hours and eat amazing food from the concession stand and run around with our friends there while also cheering on our uncle and her brother. Whether it was trivia, board games, or multiplayer video games, our competitive spirits thrived, and the time spent together brought us together in ways we hadn't anticipated. As the world gradually reopened, in-person gatherings became more frequent, yet the lessons learned during quarantine remained etched in our minds. The value of human connection became more apparent than ever, and the simplicity of spending time with loved ones was cherished like never before. Reflecting on those challenging times, I realize that amidst the chaos, a silver lining emerged. The pandemic taught us the importance of resilience, adaptability, and the irreplaceable value of relationships. My cousin and friends became anchors in a storm, and the memories we created together stand as a testament to the strength of our bonds during those trying times.

During COVID, I unearthed some pre-existing online culture in certain spaces, like the larger Black online communities. With the pandemic especially disproportionately affecting communities of color, sometimes it could be fun to send photos back and forth, especially when there was nothing better to do. These entries into "A Journal of the Plague Year: The COVID-19 Archive" somewhat reflect my background (black, chronically online, good music enjoyer). Through careful consideration, the images above contribute to the COVID-19 Archive by centering on the Black online experience during the period. Entry 1: Photo - "I’ll take the seen bro" This photo, posted sometime in 2022, directly references group chat culture and highlights the isolation that such online social hubs sort of erased, to some degree, which provided an outlet from which experience further caused damaging effects. In the span of the 36-odd months between the start of covid 2020 and this time Fall of 2023, many things surrounding sociability changed. This entry envisions the underlying happy-sadness within the digital spaces at the time. We were thankful to have someone to share these posts with even if we couldn’t see them in real life. By the presumed “end” of COVID, many become “chronically online”, or at the least, the youth became even more enthralled with social media communities than before. Saying “I’ll take the seen” demonstrates a joking willingness to sacrifice one’s online profile (an exaggerated act) concerning group chat message viewing and response. Entry 2: Photo - Sosa in the Ukraine” Also from around 2022 (speculatively), entry #2 involves an enlarged edit of Chief Keef along over a cityscape with the caption “On the way to Ukraine 🚶💥🔫🏃‍♂️.” This edited image of Chief Keef (@chiefkeefsosa on Instagram) reflects on the early stages and meme culture of the COVID-19 period Ukraine conflict. The transcendent Chicago star posted this image as the conflict overseas began to heat up. During this time, the underlying danger of the war as well as the widespread long-term effects of the pandemic were still fresh on the internet. The post’s lighthearted attitude was quickly absorbed by the rest of the internet, where the image continued to circulate. Surely, future researchers will unearth photos like these in amazement at how simple memes assisted so many in pain during isolated periods. They helped maintain comedic and cultural connections despite physical distancing measures. Circulation and archival of images from the Black community, from the pandemic period, will provide a more complete record for the future.. The selected items offer a window into the complexities of the Black experience during the pandemic, shedding light on both the challenges faced and the enduring spirit of resilience and resistance that defines the Black community. Through these submissions, I invite a more comedic perspective of the socio-cultural impact of the pandemic, ensuring that this part of the COVID narrative won't be forgotten.

Explains about the warzone in the emergency department doing good during those times to bring people together in the community and a hero being honored by the state of colorado for all his work .This was submit to the house of representatives and this story has been shared in schools such as fredrick highschool by students who look up to him thank you

I was a freshman in high school when we had the first COVID outbreak. I remember when my mom had to explain to me what was going on. It happened so fast I was just a confused and scared kid. Then I found out we had to go online. I missed a big part of my freshman and sophomore year of high school because of COVID. I lost contact with a lot of my friends. It was a very rough time not just for me, but also my parents. It was a very big change. I want to say the time sucked, but I try to think of the positives that came out of it. By one being I got a lot closer with my family. We were always close, but through COVID we only had each other. So, I try to think of the positives that happened throughout the pandemic rather get sad and think of all the things I have missed out on.

As lock down and social-distancing mandates were initiated in the spring of 2020, I was living in a tiny apartment in West Philadelphia. At the time, I was finishing my dissertation, which is a historical account about the ways in which another pandemic, HIV/AIDS, impacted the lives of children born with the disease, their families, and the healthcare workers that cared for them. Given that my entire life – work and personal – was crammed into a roughly 400 square foot apartment, I began taking long walks through the area of West Philly where I lived. These walks were mostly meant to help my mental health – sometimes they worked, other times they did not – and to relieve my cabin fever. From roughly March through June of 2020, I began taking photos of pandemic-related things that appeared on my walks. Save for my photo of the empty Target pharmacy shelves, the pictures – along with my journal entries and a small collection of pandemic-related ephemera – were an effort to document how the pandemic impacted my small part of the world. I also took them as a way to help me remember this era-defining event.

This story is about the proliferation of digital communication after the pandemic.

My husband’s cousin got married outside Cincinnati, Ohio in the fall of 2020. The invitation said the event was outdoors, and we expected it would be small. My husband and I drove his mother across multiple states so she could be there for the ceremony and celebration. We had some hope that people were being mindful of pandemic precautions, as most establishments required employees and patrons to wear masks in shared spaces, and there were plenty of signs, paid advertising and graffiti, that suggested locals were disappointed by the botched handling of the pandemic to that point. Spray paint scrawled over a Trump campaign poster reading “Trump lied and my mother died” was especially memorable. When it came time for the actual wedding however, all hopes that the wedding guests would be responsible were quickly dashed. Ignoring signs and pleas from the woman at the hotel’s front desk, guests waited for the “party bus” in the hotel lobby, maskless and chugging White Claws, then leaving the empty cans for the same woman to clean after the bus arrived. We had hoped that these guests were going to a different wedding, but when it became apparent we were all going to the same place, we opted to drive ourselves to the venue, not wanting to be in close quarters on the bus to and fro with these fools. The small, intimate wedding we were expecting to attend had over 150 guests. The ceremony was outdoors as the invitation mentioned, but the reception was zipped up in a large party tent, and the only ones wearing masks were the three of us. I took a picture of the guest list, not so I could remember at which table I was supposed to sit, but so I would know who to sic the Health Department on when I inevitably tested positive for COVID in the following days.

In March of 2021, my girlfriend and I went to the beautiful island of Aruba. I had been several times prior, but this was her first trip there. Neither of us had traveled outside of the US since the inception of the pandemic and we both were a bit concerned. I think some of the concern came from getting so much varying information. Who to believe was always a bit of a question. Several friends had gone prior to us and had very different experiences. The real disconnect seemed to be about getting their required return test for COVID. Several of the people we spoke with displayed their anger at how the test was administrated. They stated the brush had “gone into their brain”. Understanding the exaggeration made the concern no less worrisome. Despite what we heard, we went anyway and had an amazing time. Aruba is one of my favorite places in the world and I had been several times before. Being familiar with many of the spots helps navigate and lessons with anxiety. Two days before we went home, we arrived serious to take our tests. The bush seemed to be of normal size and my girlfriend bravely went first. She came out and jokingly claimed that it really hurt. The cruel joke caused me some concern, but I went through and was surprised to find no problem at all. We had a great time, and perhaps the lesson learned is to explore things for yourself to find the right answer to your questions.

This is a story about the first time I traveled post COVID restrictions lifting. This story comments on how isolating the pandemic felt to many of us and thus the importance of traveling once we were able to. This particular story is important to me because it was the first trip I had taken by myself as a newly moved out adult.

As the world slowly emerged from the grip of the COVID-19 pandemic, life began to regain a semblance of normalcy. With restrictions lifting and vaccinations becoming widely available, my family eagerly embraced the opportunity to reunite with loved ones and explore the world beyond the confines of our home. After our children became eligible for the COVID-19 vaccine, my husband and I decided to embark on a memorable journey to visit family in Chicago. The decision was influenced by the fact that Illinois had taken the pandemic seriously, and the situation seemed relatively stable. The excitement in the air was palpable as we packed our bags and set off on the adventure. The journey itself became a testament to newfound hope and optimism, a stark contrast to the anxiety-ridden days of lockdown. The rhythmic hum of the Amtrak train and the gentle swaying of the carriages created a soothing backdrop to our anticipation. After almost three days on the train, we finally reached our destination. As we settled into the rhythm of Chicago life, we found ourselves enchanted by the city's rich history and vibrant culture. The streets echoed with the footsteps of generations past, and the architecture told stories of resilience and progress. Our children's eyes widened with each new discovery, absorbing the lessons of the past and the beauty of the present. The museums became classrooms, and the parks transformed into playgrounds of learning and exploration. From the towering skyscrapers to the serene shores of Lake Michigan, Chicago opened its arms wide, inviting our family to immerse ourselves in its tapestry of experiences. Over the course of two weeks, we marveled at the diversity of the city, the pulsating energy of its neighborhoods, and the friendliness of its people. The world-class museums, the iconic Millennium Park, and the deep-dish pizzas became integral parts of our family's collective memory. The reluctance to leave grew with each passing day, as Chicago had become more than a destination; it had become a second home. The connections made, the lessons learned, and the memories forged painted a picture of a city that had welcomed our family with open arms. As we boarded the Amtrak train to return home, a mixture of gratitude and nostalgia-filled our hearts. Chicago had been a beacon of joy and discovery during a time when the world needed it most. The journey had not just been about a visit; it had been a transformative experience, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, there was always the possibility of finding beauty, connection, and a sense of belonging. The trip to Chicago amid the COVID-19 pandemic symbolizes a shift from a period of uncertainty and isolation to one of hope, reconnection, and exploration. That being said, the nervousness still set the undertone to the trip. The eligibility and administration of COVID-19 vaccinations mark a significant turning point in our family's ability to travel. It really shows the importance of vaccines as a tool for regaining a sense of freedom and the ability to engage in activities that were restricted during the height of the pandemic. The exploration of Chicago's history, culture, and landmarks communicates our desire for new experiences and rediscovery of the beauty in the world. The trip became almost like a metaphor for the broader human experience of seeking joy, adventure, and learning, even after enduring a period of hardship. As we chose to travel to a location where the pandemic was taken seriously, it is clear the new considerations the pandemic has led families to consider. This almost suggests that communities and regions that take the pandemic seriously create an environment that fosters a sense of safety and encourages responsible travel. We were so grateful to get to travel to Chicago, and it is undeniably one that we will remember forever.

Our wedding was on Leap Day, February 29th, 2020. The honeymoon followed shortly after with still whispers of a pandemic possibly looming. It was the newlywed phase of ignorance, but the pandemic was still viewed as something that wouldn't happen. We first went to Napa Valley without seeing one person wearing a mask in public. Traipsing around vineyards and imbibing on wine also helped stave off reality's harshness. When we arrived in San Francisco for the week, we realized maybe this was bigger than we realized. Walking the busy and heavily inclined streets, you would see about 50% of the people wearing masks and whipping out their hand sanitizer every so often. However, once we started walking through Chinatown, that number nearly doubled. Still, we somehow were not phased. Why would we be? We were on our honeymoon with an endless supply of matcha ice cream, dim sum, walking, sights to see, and more walking! The city was still bustling and alive; you could barely notice the Grand Princess cruise ship loitering in the bay for days, waiting for permission to dock that never came. The cancellation of a Warriors game? Oh well, our boat to Alcatraz was still ready to set sail! On the last day of our trip, we noticed a couple of restaurants closing early, with one owner asking, "Don't you know what's happening?!" On the last day of our trip, we decided to take the long drive home and go down the Pacific Coast Highway, stopping at Monterey and Carmel-by-the-Sea. In walking the streets and making our way to Monterey Bay Aquarium, we were shocked by the sight of people in hazmat suits spraying the exterior doors of the building. This image would later replay on the news once we made it home. They implemented strict lockdowns and travel restrictions within the hour of crossing back into Arizona's borders. We were so lucky we made it back home just in time and didn't realize until we made it home just how oblivious and ignorant we were. Looking back, I cringe at our naivety. Those concerned people wearing masks in Chinatown? Some of them would later become victims of racism due to COVID fearmongering. That ice cream shop we frequented? Vandalized and destroyed. That curious cruise ship at the time claimed seven lives and infected over 100 people. Once we were home safe and realized this pandemic's seriousness, we stayed home. Within a couple of weeks after returning home, we found out we were expecting, bringing even more intensity and fear. The carefree attitude and carelessness, as exhibited on our honeymoon, were now met with complete awareness of the pandemic and the strictest adherence to lockdown guidelines. We didn't travel again until our pandemic baby was two and a half years old—all of the innocence of life before COVID was forever gone.

When the COVID-19 travel restrictions were lifted, our family immediately headed for Aulani, A Hawaii Disney Resort – this was already planned as a Christmas gift (‘21) for Spring Break (‘22). In fact, upon arriving, we found out that the lockdown for the island was going to be lifted the very next day. So masks and other PPE were not necessary when moving about the exterior hotel. In fact, events around Oahu (Polynesian Cultural Center) were also relaxing C-19 measures for tourists and all guests. Small precautions were still in place, like one family in the elevators at a time, no character meet and greets (with full contact), and masking indoors. Due to Hawaii being landlocked, the importance of C-19 measures meant we all had to do our part to stay covid free. We were happy to do whatever it took. Our memories of this trip were refreshing. It was nice to get out of the house and to the islands (not the desert where we are from), experience and learn the culture of Hawaii, take in a little dose of Disney, and be mask-free, even with precautions being taken in some areas (which we were okay with).

I was a SSG in the US Army when the lockdown hit. The isolation let my personal demons almost get the best of me, but lessons were certainly learned and I pray we never get to that point ever again.

The pandemic has altered the way I view and interact with people and places. Although I have always been cautious of germs, illness, personal space, and keeping healthy, the pandemic has heightened my awareness. I am now turned off and disgusted by the thought of crowed spaces, movie theaters, gyms, airports and other places with heavy traffic. I no longer have interest in activities I once enjoyed and participated in. This has affected how I travel and how often. I once loved traveling, visiting new places, trying new restaurants, interacting with communities, and just being a “tourist”. After the pandemic restrictions were lifted, I had no interest in traveling and enjoyed being at home. Home was comfortable and safe. The first time I traveled after the pandemic was in 2022, I traveled to California to attend a conference, visit some museums and to do touristy things. I did enjoy my experiences, but it was truly exhausting. I was constantly worried that I had caught COVID or that I was going to catch it. By the end of the week, I was ready to go home and recover from the anxiety I had. It has been a year since that trip.

In May of 2021, after nearly eighteen months of being apart, I was finally able to visit my mom and dad in Spokane, Washington. After driving five hours across Washington state, I finally arrived at my parents house. To say the least it was a very emotional greeting. When I arrived we greeted each other with many hugs and tears. Throughout the day we would just give each other random hugs, happy to be together again. My parents live in a retirement community that was very careful and followed the Covid recommendations to keep the residents safe. I was considered an essential worker as a grocery store worker. I didn't want to take the chance of exposing them to the virus since I worked closely with the public until I received the first vaccine. I also have two sisters that live in Spokane and were able to see them too. We still had to wear masks in most areas but that did not matter. Getting the family together, after such a long time, was all my mom could ask for on her special day. Happy Mother's Day.

Road Trip During the heat of covid, the spring of 2020 through the fall of 2022 I worked for our local school district in Arizona. My family and I did not do a lot of traveling beyond the necessary during the mandated restrictions. After the bulk of the restrictions were lifted and vaccines were widely available I participated in a work trip to San Diego to attend a convention. My partner and I decided to springboard off this and turned the summer into a west coast road trip to visit with friends and family. We started in San Diego and the highlights of this trip were Portland, Oregan, Seattle, Washington, and San Jose, California. On our jaunt along the coast there were still precautions being taken. Many people still wore masks out and were positioned with more space in public. Of the people we visited and stayed with on our journey, some were still social distancing, and taking precautions when going out. Our adventure was a good way to reconnect with the people we hadn’t been able to see during the lockdown. My partner and I were able to visit some important places from my childhood and have some epic picnics. There is a lake and small national park near my Grandparents’ home that is open to the public. The tree cover and water line is cut with an easy hiking path. We got to traverse about a mile of it. Taking in the beauty that could easily have been featured in a fairy tail description of an ancient forest. It was a great way to break the isolation and share some of the past with my partner.

This story is about travel that did not happen, but should have during the Covid-19 Pandemic. In mid-2020, my little sister Sarah was diagnosed with kidney cancer. She was married and had 3 children up in Seattle. When my family heard the news, travel was severely restricted and many people were still dying daily from the virus. I have my own wife and kids, so we all agreed that it wasn’t a good risk to go and visit. Besides, we reasoned, she hadn’t started treatment yet and she had good chances of beating cancer. So we waited it out. My sister and I talked frequently, and she told me that she was optimistic about her cancer diagnosis. Unfortunately, our Dad died in January of 2021 due to complications related to Covid (he had Parkinson’s also), and neither of us could travel to do any funeral service. In April of 2021, the pandemic had cleared up enough that most travel restrictions had ended, everyone was vaccinated, and the risk was lower. My older brother Sean had planned a trip to go to Seattle and stay there for a month to visit, help take care of kids and just be there. He urged me to go, at least for a week or so because he told me that he thought it wasn’t going as well with her treatments as Sarah had led me to believe. Because of Covid patients overwhelming hospitals, I don’t think she was getting as much good-quality medical care as she needed, though that’s my opinion. Anyway, I didn’t want to go on this trip. I don’t particularly handle death and dying well, and I didn’t want to go there and be basically sad and crying the whole time, and I was in denial about her health, so I didn’t go. A few months later, in June 2021, Sarah succumbed to cancer and died. If I could go back in time to do it over again, I definitely would have gone. I would have liked to walk around Seattle with her and take pictures to put on Facebook, our primary means of sharing memories, or take her kids out for a few hours to sight see and get to know them better. I regret, and always will, that I did not go and see her and her family there at the end.

In late July 2020, my wife (then girlfriend), my family, and I took a trip to Sturgis, South Dakota for the annual Black Hills motorcycle rally. During the trip, we traveled to Red Lodge, Montana, where we spent two days riding our motorcycles into Yellowstone National Park. Of all the memories we made on that trip, driving on Beartooth Pass, one of the most dangerous roads in the United States, was my favorite. The views were stunning and the ride was exciting, with near-vertical dropoffs and few guardrails. In South Dakota, the only COVID-19 restriction in effect was mask mandates inside restaurants and stores; in Montana, there were no restrictions.

During the pandemic, I was lucky that I didn't lose anyone close to me. I know many people around me and in the world who watched their loved ones die from COVID-19. It has also had long-lasting health effects on many people as well. It is an ongoing conversation because people are still contracting the virus daily. Lockdown was a surreal moment for many in our ordinarily fast-paced world. The entire world stopped, and for once, we couldn't rely on our usual entertainment and schedules for distraction. This led to the development of new habits, which, unfortunately for me, were not just board games and binge-watching Netflix. Alcoholism had been at my doorstep since my senior year of high school, with my dependence on the substance worsening as the years passed. This is a genetic condition, and I have had countless family members struggle and die because of substance abuse, mainly alcohol. When the pandemic hit, I drank nearly every day, and this continued during lockdown with my roommate and a few friends. Not only was this dangerous because of the spreading pandemic, but it also worsened my mental health. Soon, my college shut down, and I had to move back home, where my substance abuse continued. My relationship had fallen apart when my ex moved back to India as he was on a student visa. The drinking and emotional isolation/strife led to a breakdown wherein intrusive suicidal thoughts plagued me. Something had to change; one night, I quit all substances and contacted my PCP about a mental health evaluation. I know my diagnosis was wrong, but it got me on the medication I needed to forget the intrusive thoughts and piece my life back together. My saving grace was my father and, eventually, my friends, who decided to pick me up and give me a distraction. This distraction became hiking mountains, a shared hobby of previous substance abusers. The chemicals released in the brain during these hikes and the physical exercise filled the void alcohol used to. It served it and began to heal the void left by years of mental health struggles and abuse. Like in this picture, the world's problems and my own seemed small when I was on top of a mountain. Not only that but also hiking is a very social-distance-friendly activity. The love for hiking fostered in my childhood was rekindled during the pandemic and remains one of my favorite things to do. My father and I are attempting to walk up all New England's notable peaks.

I've written a story sharing our Covid trip to Iceland that we were able to take after the restrictions were lifted. I don't think we would have gone if the circumstances were different, it was a life-altering trip for us, something joyful in the midst of a world crisis.

During the COVID-19 pandemic I was working in health care for an agency. This meant that I traveled from facility to facility where there were staffing shortages and predominantly worked in the covid units. It was a strange experience to travel across Pennsylvania during this time and have little to no traffic that would typically have existed were there not any restrictions enacted. Therefore, when the restrictions were lifted, I did not feel an urge to travel to any great extent as I never stopped working during the lockdowns and if anything, my hours were significantly increased to the point of constant exhaustion. However, when the restrictions were lifted, I found myself in need of outdoor therapy. I am an avid hiker and enjoy the silence that trails offer. I have found that my favorite trail to visit is the Golden Eagle Trail, or as my children refer to it “Rattlesnake Ridge.” While the restrictions were lifting in most places at the time, I hardly noticed because in health care they remained for a much longer period. On many occasions in 2021, my family accompanied me to the Golden Eagle Trail to step away from society and unwind as a family without feeling the pressure of all the changes that were brought about by the pandemic. These trips provided me with lasting memories of my son reaching for my hand for security when walking along a thin train with a steep drop alongside it, my husband helping steady me across slippery rocks, and more. The photos from these trips are everlasting reminders of the happiness that hiking, especially with my family, bring me. Moments like these are to me the important moments in life.

My family and I were very cautious during the pandemic and waited a long time before we chose to travel both as individual families and as an extended family unit. We finally decided to travel with a family trip to Disneyland. We have a wide range of ages in our family from over sixty-five to under ten years of age and we wanted to find a place that would have something for everyone. We appreciated the fact that at Disneyland the vast majority of the vacation would be spent outside and we all live relatively close to the location helping with travel anxieties. The fact that the place is excellently maintained helped lessen many of my family members' fears of going out for the first time. The time was very enjoyable and everyone had a wonderful time. There was still the lingering fear of not wearing a mask at all times and walking around the park without a mask did take some getting used to however it was a wonderful way to reenter the world of traveling. In reference to the photograph that I placed in the archive - The photograph does not show the park or us on the trip due to keeping our privacy. However, it helps to represent what this trip meant to my family and myself. The Disneyland Starbucks mug and pins represents the fact that we often bring back souvenirs from our trip in order to remember our time together. The Peter Pan funko is to illustrate the adventurous spirit, joy, and freedom that we had been unable to experience during the time of Covid restrictions. Finally, Disneyland holds fond memories of family, joy, and adventure as a child so it was wonderful to re-enter that world on my first experience back traveling after the exile imposed by Covid.

It was in the late summer of 2020, and we thought that we would have the whole park to ourselves by going during the pandemic. We were wrong! It was as busy as it usually was, however people were keeping their distance from each other, and everyone was even more courteous than usual. The park required masks inside the buildings, but didn't enforce it outside. Many of the usual amenities inside the buildings were closed, and they were working with a skeleton crew. When we were waiting for Old Faithful to do its thing, many people were keeping to their own groups rather than packing in to see the geyser as they typically did before social distancing was a thing.

I am submitting a short antidote regarding an individual being upset by being asked to wear a mask on a ferry. This could be important to show how some people resisted COVID-19 restrictions, but this event's importance to me is nonexistent.

In the timeframe of the slow lifting of restrictions from the Covid 19 pandemic and shutdown, my family and I were less inclined to engage in travel, at least originally, than we had been before the pandemic. The luxury of just having the freedom to meet with local friends and re-engage in the simple pleasure of taking in a movie at the theater or going shopping at the mall were enough. Eventually, desire to see family that had been cut off from us because of the pandemic encouraged me to take the plunge and fly to visit my sister in my boyhood home state of Wisconsin, a place I had not visited in over twenty years. The plane trip itself was a strange mix of familiar experiences such as checking in my luggage and going through airport security combined with new experiences of wearing a mask in the airplane at all times while regularly using hand sanitizer whenever interacting with people or objects potentially infected with Covid 19. Despite being personally vaccinated, the act of traveling in this way felt both isolating and risky. To be masked up while still being in such a confined area as an airplane after the isolation of staying mostly at home for most of a year felt like a flimsy defense against the potential threat from Covid 19. Isolation from one another still seemed to be the new norm for people, with minimal conversations between strangers. Otherwise, the flight itself was uneventful. Once in Wisconsin, my sister and I spent most of the time visiting locations of my childhood. Places such as our former family farm now owned by a distant cousin, or the creek I learned to swim in or the elementary school I had attended before moving away to Arizona, which had been turned into a recycle center that looked more like a dump than a school. Much of our time was spent talking and reminiscing about the past. Essentially reconnecting in person rather than through text messages or the occasional Zoom call. When we traveled to more public locations such as restaurants, a local baseball game, or Fourth of July fireworks, it was apparent that despite health protocols being strictly followed in locations like airports, local mask regulations had been greatly relaxed. While essentially all staff members were wearing masks, the majority of patrons tended to be without masks. While hand sanitizer was available in the restroom, it seemed fewer and fewer people were using it. It was once again a strange combination of familiar experiences such as ordering a meal with the overtone of pandemic restrictions such as staff masks hovering over your shoulder like a ghost, present but less and less substantial. Overall the trip itself was enjoyable, but was mostly an opportunity to reconnect with family while at the same time reassuring myself of the relative safety to be able to travel once again. Eventually, as more restrictions were removed and the increased access to vaccines made Covid 19 less of a fear and more of a nuisance, other family trips to tourist destinations such as San Francisco or Disneyworld became once again a normal part of travel for myself and my family. But my first trip after restrictions began to relax, there was definitely a reminder that the reality of Covid still hovered over our heads, even as we began to move closer and closer to new normal in our post-Covid world.

As a survivor of COVID-19 with long-lasting damage, this memory still brings feelings of anger and fear to the surface. It takes place at a family cabin that was the epicenter of many happy memories all the way from childhood through becoming a parent myself. That first trip back forced me to see all that COVID-19 had stolen from me and would continue to steal from me for the rest of my life.

I've included a text story and video of the first time I traveled since the the massive Covid lockdown in March 2020. This text and video are important to me because not only was it a brave thing to do after being confined for so long, but it was also a defining moment in my adult life. I am now married as a result of that trip.

After travel restrictions were lifted, my family and I took a trip to Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg, Tennessee, for an early summer vacation! While we spent most of our time outdoors in the Great Smoky Mountains, we did go to a few “indoor spaces,” such as Dollywood Amusement Park, The Island in Pigeon Forge, Anakeesta, and various restaurants. We visited in June of 2021; the most evident restrictions still present were in Dollywood. While there is always a restricted number of tickets available for Dollywood due to fire and safety protocols, when they opened up after Covid, they had a very limited number of tickets to give more space and distance for the customers in the park, which was nice! There was not much waiting in lines for rides, stores, or concession stands, and we were able to keep our distance from other people. While a few smaller stores asked for masks, masks were not mandated in the two cities or any of the places listed above, and no other types of restrictions were evident in the area. My family and I did our best to stay safe and comfortable during this time and to keep the people around us safe. We chose to spend most of our time outside, surrounded by nature and wildlife!

As an Active Duty Soldier during the COVID-19 pandemic I was able to travel; albeit my movements were extremely controlled and job-related and not for leisure. On 13 March 2020, when the entire Country literally reacted to and shut down due to COVID-19, I was out of town and hours away from traveling back to my duty station. The sudden reality we were all faced with felt like The Twilight Zone, especially since it was also a Friday. In May of 2020, I drove to my hometown of San Antonio, TX. My mother was a COVID patient in the ICU, and I needed to get home to help take care of my father. Thankfully, my mother recovered, and I returned to Tennessee, where I was stationed at the time. The COVID restrictions from Tennessee and Texas could not have been more different; whereas Clarksville, Tennessee treated public separation and mask-wearing with a laissez-faire attitude, San Antonio was very strict with its public safety ordinances. A few months later, I deployed to Iraq; transiting to and from the Combat Zone was extremely restrictive. Prior to the Pandemic, we could enjoy local sightseeing if we had a layover in Spain or Germany; naturally, during COVID we were confined to our lodging. However, in January of 2021, as travel restrictions began to lift ever-so slightly, I participated in a unit training exercise in California. To my surprise, we had to fly commercially to Las Vegas, NV. To ensure 6-foot separation, we were each allowed our own rental vehicles, and our own hotel rooms while we trained in the California desert. In all my years in the military, that was the only time I wasn’t required to share a rental or hotel room with anyone. After we had concluded our training, we commuted back to Las Vegas. The original plan was to use military lodging on Nellis Air Force Base, however our Commander allowed us to find our own hotels in Las Vegas, as our flights would not depart for Nashville for another 36 hours or so. At that time of course, no one was traveling or booking rooms; I was able to find a room at the 4 Queens Casino on Fremont Street for forty dollars a night. This turned out to be far more cost-effective to the US Government, as we would have paid around ninety dollars a night had we stayed on Nellis AFB. Restaurants in Las Vegas during the Pandemic opened no earlier than noon, so we had a lot of time to kill in the morning. We walked up and down Fremont Street, the Strip, and it felt as though we were the only group of people in the city. Casinos were empty throughout the day and remained empty well into the night. Being thirsty Soldiers, we visited a Speakeasy and a couple of restaurants; again, with the eerie feeling like we were the only “tourists” there. We even visited the Mob Museum and enjoyed all the history and Prohibition artifacts at our leisure! Between multiple quarantines, working remotely, COVID tests, memorandums clearing us to leave the country, and the eventual vaccination, we continued military travel. It was impossible for my unit to cease all operations due to the Pandemic; we adjusted on the spot and continued to learn throughout the entire experience. It was impossible for me to narrow my travels during COVID to just one single memory; rather it felt like one continuous surreal dream. Today if anyone asks where or how I spent Lockdown, I have to ask, “When during the Pandemic are you referring to?”

Living in San Diego at the time, once travel restrictions were lifted, I went to Yosemite National Park as I thought being in an outdoor open-air environment would mean less COVID-19 restrictions. As an avid backpacker and nature enthusiast, I could not wait for the national parks to reopen so once Yosemite opened its proverbial doors I jumped on the opportunity, as I had never been there before. My memories of the trip are very fond ones. I remember the emptiness throughout the park. One of the COVID restrictions implemented by the park was the limitation of people who could enter on a daily basis. Due to this finite number of visitors, and me being one of them, this made the park feel fairly empty, which was amazing. Not having congested trails and camps made my trip seem like I was in some remote forest, vice one of the most famous national parks. So, besides the stunning views and crisp air, one of my primary memories is the feeling of seclusion throughout my time due to COVID-19 entrance restrictions. Also, I remember a lack of masks and overall COVID-19 consciousness throughout the park. Even though the park had a mandatory mask policy, I remember not seeing many masked people. I honestly thought the mask restriction was overkill due to the already implemented restrictions and being outside, but I did notice we all would use masks if coming near other people on trails. Yosemite still had several COVID-19 restrictions implemented throughout the part. Aside from the aforementioned entrance cap and masks, all their restaurants, hotels and general facilities remained closed. Also, they spaced out the campsites, so each camp had at least one camp space between them, limiting the sharing of space. They even closed specific trails due to the lack of workers at any given time. The park employees were few and far in-between due to a COVID-19 restriction, which meant less accessible trails since they would not supervise them all with such limited manpower. Besides that, the COVID-19 restrictions were not abundant, which was likely a product of the open-air environment.

In June 2020, I had to drive from Florida to Northern California for a new job. I didn't fly for fear of Covid and I had a car to move. The journey took me 5 days. The first day was from Tampa Florida to Mobile Alabama, the second day was from Mobile Alabama to Dallas Texas. The third day was from Dallas Texas to Albuquerque New Mexico. The forth day from Albuquerque to Cedar City Utah where my sister lives. Finally from Cedar City Utah to Truckee California. Before the trip I had isolated myself for fear of getting sick while travelling which I feared greatly. My general approach was to eat breakfast at the hotel, get lunch in a drive through, and have uber eats deliver food to my hotel for dinner. Along the journey it was interesting to see how strict the rules were depended greatly on where you were. In Texas I stopped at a donut shop for coffee and found a large group of elderly men sitting around drinking coffee and eating donuts without a single mask to be found. This group was clearly not concerned about Covid. However, when i drove through Navajo country in Arizona, the rules were very strict and only drive through food options was available and I had difficulty finding an open bathroom in the entire area as no gas station or restaurant was allowing people inside. I also remember listening to E Street Radio on satellite radio and Bruce Springsteen was reading the obituaries of people who had died. I remember that being a striking moment throughout all of this.

In January 2022, my family of three escaped the cold of the Midwest for a much-needed vacation in Disney World. We had actually planned to go in May 2021 for our daughter's fourth birthday, but had to reschedule due to unforeseen circumstances. So we went on a seven day, seven night trip during the slowest season for theme parks to avoid large crowds. We had a really good time but soon learned that Disney World is anything but relaxing! There were still COVID restrictions in place, but mainly just optional masks and social distancing guidelines. My husband and I were much stricter about our safety than others may have been, and took great care to ensure that were were all wearing properly fitted KN95 masks. We scheduled rides on the My Disney Experience app to avoid lines. We also used hand sanitizer constantly and brought an enormous bottle with us to refill our travel-sized containers. We all stayed perfectly healthy, likely due in part to the extremely limited crowds. On some days, we were able to walk right onto rides.

When travel restrictions were lifted, did you take a trip?

My spouse and I love road trips and concerts. Covid definitely slowed us down! In the summer of 2021, we decided to take a road trip culminating in a concert in Denver, Colorado. Which concert? The Eagles - Hotel California! We drove and camped through Idaho, Wyoming, Utah, and Colorado. In Denver, we toured the famous restaurant Casa Bonita and went to the concert. For the concert, everyone needed a vaccination card and masks were required (although not widely worn). It was fun and felt a little like back-to-normal. We had a great time!