Features
21
FRIDAY, APRIL 17, 2020
Bobby Caina Calvan
BRISTOL (AP) - As Jessica Cherry
watched traf ic from her porch,
she wondered with each passing
vehicle if the coronavirus had
made its way into her rural Florida
Panhandle community.
For weeks, residents of Liberty
County watched as infections
spread, reaching into all of Florida's
67 counties but their own - the
state's least populous - and worried
about the devastating effect the
coronavirus could have on their
8,300 people.
"When you see somebody drive
by, your anxiety level goes up with
each passing car because you
think: They're going somewhere
and get contaminated and they'll
be bringing it to us," Cherry said.
Cherry, a kindergarten teacher,
has been working from home
for nearly a month while schools
are closed in an effort to limit the
virus's spread. Like her neighbours,
she has grown wary of outsiders,
especially those who could be
harbouring an invisible enemy.
"At least with a hurricane, you
know it's coming," she said.
It's not that folks in Liberty
County aren't welcoming. In fact,
the sign on the edge of Bristol -
population not quite 1,000 - seems
hospitable enough: "Welcome to
our friendly city."
Locals used to be glad for out-
of-town traf ic to stray off the road
for provisions at the local market,
or gas on the way to the beach or
the state capital an hour away.
Townsfolk acknowledge there's
really not much to see or do here,
unlessyoulikeroamingpine-scented
country roads, listening to birds
chirp and watching traf ic go by.
But the encroaching pandemic has
strained their welcoming nature.
Some thought it odd when
strangers began invading the local
market to ill carts with toilet paper
and other necessities. Who knew
where they were from and what
they could be spreading?
And history offered other
reasons to be leery of outsiders.
When
Hurricane
Michael
devastated the region two years
ago, Liberty County, like so many
rural enclaves across the Florida
Panhandle, was desperate for help.
Outsiderscamepouringin,including
some that took advantage of the
community's trust and desperation.
One by one, nearby counties
joined the list of con irmed cases.
As of Wednesday night, Florida
reported nearly 22,000 infections
state-wide, and the number of
deaths surpassed 600.
Leon County to the east, home
to the state capital, had at least
150 cases. Gadsden to the north
counted nearly 40, and Franklin to
the south recorded its irst case
two weeks ago. Neighbouring
Calhoun County, just on the other
side of the Apalachicola River, had
ive recorded cases.
"I thought that when Calhoun
County got it, that was going to be
it," said Matthias Schmarje, who
lives in Liberty County but runs a
restaurant in Blountstown, Calhoun
County's biggest community.
But as the days passed, Liberty
County remained without a con-
irmed infection, and residents
prayed it could extend its luck - just
maybe it could elude the global
pandemic. Liberty seemed a safe
distance from the epicentre of the
state's COVID19 infections - about
500 miles from Broward and Miami-
Dade, the counties with the bulk of
the state's cases.
As cases spread, residents
watched the number of virus-free
counties on Florida's outbreak map
dwindle. "We had a running joke
that we were in the state playoffs,"
he said. "Who's going to be the
last man standing in the state of
Florida? We never win anything."
In a bit of gallows humour,
townsfolk gloated when Liberty
County achieved that distinction.
Then worry crept back in.
"I don't know how long it will be
before we get a case, but I know
it's inevitable. Everybody's going to
have it everywhere," Schmarje said.
"That's kind of how a pandemic
works, right?"
To help keep their streak alive,
the local sewing club decided to
swing into action.
Club membership swelled.
Some of its newest members could
barely thread a needle, but they lent
a hand by bending pipe cleaners
for nose clips on face masks. The
group made scores of masks for
friends and neighbours and hopes
to produce hundreds more to
donate to a hospital in Tallahassee.
Schmarje's mother, Cathia, said
she joined the effort "to keep your
family safe, to keep your children
safe, to keep your elderly safe".
Some sewing club members
anointed themselves the commu-
nity mask police, turning a stern
eye on those without masks and
offering a covering to anyone
who wanted one. Cathia Schmarje
said they'd been praying the
virus would skip their county but
acknowledged the inevitable.
"You can't be so naive to think
that we're not ever going to see
Counting down the days
The sign entering the city of Bristol in the Florida Panhandle advertises the
community as a friendly city. PHOTOS: AP
Cathia Schmarje sews a face mask on the front porch of her home
Florida county pulls away the welcome mat amid coronavirus outbreak.
this in this community. Because it's
coming," she said.
Their time ran out.
News spread quickly of the
county's irst coronavirus infection:
a 56-year-old man who had been
in contact with an infected person
from across the river. Soon after,
the Liberty County Sheriff's Of ice
said another county resident, a
29-year-old man, had come down
with COVID19.
For Cherry, the schoolteacher,
concern shifted to what lies ahead.
"Of course, it makes us worry
that there's more - that there's going
to be more coming," she said. "And
who's next?"
Ebrahim Noroozi
TEHRAN (AP) - On the rooftop
terrace of her Tehran apartment
building, 28-year-old Mojgan Hos-
seini’s ingers pluck the strings of
her
qanun
, an ancient stringed
instrument, bringing life to an Iranian
capital stilled by the coronavirus.
With performance halls closed
and many isolated in their homes
as a result of the Mideast’s worst
virus outbreak, Hosseini and
other Iranian musicians now ind
performance spaces where they
can. That includes rooftops dotted
with water tanks and littered with
debris, empty front porches and
opened
apartment
windows.
Their music loats down on others
stuck in their homes, fearful of the
COVID19 illness the virus brings.
Their
impromptu
concerts
draw applause and offer hope
to their listeners, even as public
performances still draw scrutiny
in the country. “We’re not frontline
medical workers, hospital custo-
dians, or grocery workers, but I
think many musicians - myself inc-
luded - have felt an obligation to
offer our services of comfort and
entertainment in these trying times,”
said Arif Mirbaghi, who played the
double bass in his front yard.
Isolated musicians take to the rooftops
A woman plays Qanun on the roof of her home during mandatory isolation
in Tehran
A musician plays accordion on the roof of his home in Tehran. PHOTOS: AP
Iran has been hard-hit by
the virus with more than 76,000
con irmed cases, including more
than 4,700 fatalities.
Musicians long have been a
mainstay in Iranian life, dating back
to the ancient Persian empires.
Legend has it that King Jamshid,
the fourth king of the Pishdadian
Dynasty, known as the “king of
the world”, created music with
a four-stringed lyra. Over time,
Western in luence brought with it
the symphonies of Europe. Initially,
pop and Western-in luenced music
all but disappeared. Classical music
slowly re-emerged in the 1990s and
has become increasingly popular.
Among those taking to the
rooftops are female musicians
like 36-year-old composer and
tar
player Midya Farajnejad. (A
tar
is a
long-necked stringed instrument).
“It is not easy for me to stay
at home and not be on stage or
in studio during quarantine, so I...
play
tar
on the roof, to share my
emotions with the neighbours,”
Farajnejad said during a lull in one
recent session.




