Where were you in March of 2020.  Is there a moment that stands out in your memory?

That first week of March 2020, I took my husband to see the Broadway production of COMPANY to celebrate his birthday. Earlier that week, we catered a reception for 400 at a cultural institution; COVID rumblings had started and staff inquired if they could wear gloves to serve food and drink. That felt so foreign and though I said yes, it still seemed so odd at the time. One short week later, the city collapsed.

What about the early days of lockdown do you remember most?

During early days of lockdown, simple tasks required consideration. We feared contracting this then deadly disease, keeping close to home and grocery shopping at 6am to avoid crowds. Since masks for purchase were at a premium, I hand sewed my first mask from leftover fabric I had used to make the kitchen curtains.

How did you adapt to lockdown? Was there any silver lining?

We hunkered down at home in Briarcliff Manor, where we were so blessed to have a wealth of space both indoor and outdoor. After living there for 10+ years, I only then found out that, just steps up a back road, there was a stable with Winnie, the pony and Talisman, the horse. I got to know the owner who let me ride Tali on occasion.

Do you have any family experiences to share?

Like most, we cooked a lot of new recipes …. Both food AND drink. I became notorious on social media for my cocktail postings.

In March of 2020, New York City was a speeding train vibrating with excitement and possibility and I–like many of us–was thrilled to be along for the crazy ride. We were unstoppable.  We were unbreakable. We were all Leo in Titanic–we were “King of the World!”

And then, one day–the unthinkable happened: the train came to a crashing halt and suddenly, the city stood eerily still.

The past few years have been a jarring and confusing time for all of us. I spent much of lockdown alone in my studio apartment trying to make sense of the traumatic events wreaking havoc on our city and our world. The city’s heartbeat was gone—the addictive rhythm that typically resonated in the traffic, the bright lights, the bustling crowds, the busy streets. All the joys and woes of this magical and complicated metropolis seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye. And without that constant and resounding beat guiding us like a metronome, the silence of the city was deafening.

Three years later, as we all continue to navigate life in a world that is forever changed, one of the best parts of being on the Great Performances team has been the opportunity to reconnect our clients with something that’s felt lost. With each holiday party crowd that rejoiced in being together again, each non-profit organization that gratefully opened their doors to energetic donors at in-person galas, and with each lively conversation shared over cocktails and passed hors d’oeuvres, the people of this city can again begin to feel it reverberating in their bones. Faint at first, and sometimes so tentative that it’s only just a whisper. But every time people gather and make lasting memories, they add their voices to the symphony of Life that is reinvigorating this wonderful city.

The train was derailed, the ship may have sunk (sorry, Leo) but together we’re finding our way—and that exhilarating NYC rhythm—one event at a time.

I still can’t believe that it has been 3 years.

Where were you in March of 2020.  Is there a moment that stands out in your memory?

I remember March of 2020 like it was yesterday. I was running the Roth Bar for Hauser & Wirth and we were really starting to become a destination to visit in Chelsea. I was told that my barista and I were going to start alternating weeks because of this new virus that was very contagious and starting to kill people. Later on the week we were told that we would just be closing down for two weeks and so many other places were going to do the same. So, I cleared out all of the fridges, but I knew this would blow over and even left behind all non-dairy milks so we could come back to it after our two-week break. Well, that turned into a very long break and quarantine began.

What about the early days of lockdown do you remember most?

During those first few days of lockdown, I treated it more like a vacation staying up all night, binging on TV shows and making cocktails. Then as the weeks began to pass, I started to organize my entire house and clean everything. I was just looking for anything to do after organizing and cleaning everything. The gym had already been closed for a few weeks, so even though it was still cold out I would go outside every day to get out of the house and do stairs. I remember going to the market and shelves being wiped clean of all water, toilet paper, sanitizer and sanitizing wipes. Finally, I got a call from GP that I would be working from home and helping out with meals on wheels. Shortly after that was over, I received another call that I would be working at the Covid hotel, so I could finally get out of the house 5 days a week.

The COVID-19 pandemic has been an unprecedented global event that has brought challenges to our lives, especially those living in New York City, the epicenter of the pandemic in the United States. As someone who was there during those challenging times, I saw firsthand the devastation the virus had on the city. The once-bustling streets were empty, and closed businesses were a common sight. The fear of catching the virus was palpable, and the constant sound of ambulances left an indelible mark on me.

But amidst all the chaos, I was heartened to see the kindness and resilience of New Yorkers. The support for essential workers and small businesses was inspiring, and people found new ways to connect and support each other. Whether it was through virtual happy hours or just checking in on each other through text or phone calls, the people of New York City came together.

Personally, the pandemic was a rollercoaster of emotions. Like many others in the hospitality industry, I lost my job and had to navigate the uncertainty of unemployment during an economic shutdown. I also had to cope with being separated from loved ones and the stress of worrying about their health. However, the experience taught me to appreciate the simple things in life and the value of good health, both physically and mentally.

Looking back, the pandemic may have changed the world forever, but it also taught us to come together as a community when faced with adversity. As for me, I’m just grateful that I can now leave my apartment without fear of getting sick.

Embarrassingly enough, I learned to cook during “the COVID era.” By March 2020, I had been working in the hospitality industry for over 11 years but – with enough events to keep me fed and sufficient food knowledge to compile menu proposals without issue – I simply hadn’t needed to learn. Until the events dried up and there were no proposals to compose.

My roommates (read: parents) and I had a pretty sweet deal: they bankrolled the groceries, I shopped and cooked. And I cooked everything. Mapo tofu, spicy mojo meatballs, chicken katsu sandwiches, lemon poppy seed muffins with blackberry lemon glaze, spiced lamb pasta, Algerian-style meatballs with chickpeas, white lasagna, matcha lemon bars, soto ayam, olive oil cake with roasted berry compote, Korean short ribs, popovers with strawberry butter; you name it, I burnt myself making it.

During a time of unspeakable fear and loss, I retained a sense of purpose and self with these tasks in front of me and my support system behind me. I am lucky to share with my family a deep love of food, an even deeper love of being together, and perhaps the greatest proof of love there is: in our home, the person who cooks never has to do the dishes.

I remember hearing the news warn against shaking hands and getting too close to an individual. Not shaking hands, that was the first step in stripping away the norm. On that same day rumors of the city shutting down seemed to be true. It was my last day at my current job at that time, coincidently. 

The early days of the lockdown seemed promising that it wasn’t going to be too long; how can the city shut down for a long period of time? At least that is what I thought, so I had hope, excited to start a new job, in a good place, until the realization that this wasn’t going to end quickly, and that job was never going to start.

My kids were in other states, my daughter in her graduate year, so distance never felt so far. My daughter graduated virtually with her masters but was trapped in Texas. Lots of phone calls, she persisted and found a job. I was inspired by her fortitude. It gave me hope to keep trying and not let it get me down that I had no job, and not a lot of hope to be hired in that climate.

I learned a lot, I discovered my emotions, I read, got a kitten, I changed my exercise routine (which has stuck to this day). I found change in the end, change that as I look back, I appreciate every day. I wouldn’t want to do it again, but I do not think I would be where I am today if the lockdown did not happen.

The shutdown coincided with the multi-million dollar commitment my company made to its new facility. The notion of zero revenue was unfathomable and more terrifying than the health threat, which at first felt distant and overblown. I remember being out for dinner on March 12^th with two colleagues, in a state of complete naivete. It would be my last in-restaurant meal for a long time. 

We prepared for a three-month maximum hiatus. Before we could go off-line, the company began to participate in emergency food relief efforts. It was salvation on every level. The lights stayed on, daily heroes stood out leading the unimaginable work effort of preparing and delivering tens of thousands of meals door-to-door, and the need to be proactive and productive was fulfilled many times over.  

There are three audio memories I will never forget. The sound of beautiful city birdsong at 4 am each morning; the sound of my sneakered footsteps along the city streets late at night; and the constant sound of ambulance sirens racing past my apartment building, heading to Mt. Sinai Hospital. 

There are certain dates I will never forget. They are seared in my memory. March 13 and March 15, 2020 are two of those dates for me. As the executive leader of a small organization, I remember clearly the making decisions in the face of uncertainty those first couple of days. On March 13, I advised our staff of nearly 40 to take any materials home that they thought they would need for the next week. Little did any of us know at the time that it would be many months before we would return to the office, and that years later we still wouldn’t have returned full time.

As a small organization, it had always been our practice to follow the Mayor’s public announcements, so if public schools were closed for the snow days, our organization would close. As the weekend ticked on through Saturday, the public news grew increasingly alarming, and it became clear that staff members wouldn’t feel safe traveling to the office on Monday. Members of our leadership team communicated, but the Mayor and Governor remained silent through Sunday morning. For the first time during my tenure, we got out in front of the public announcement. At 2 pm, I emailed the staff telling them to stay home and not to travel to the office. I was concerned for their safety. Later that afternoon, the Mayor and Governor announced that all workers, except for essential workers, should stay home.

Fortunately, my organization’s ability to transition to fully remote work was very smooth. Having anticipated the need to be adaptable to more off-site work, we had already invested in the necessary technology to support our work remotely. To help our families, we launched programming immediately on Facebook Live, even though we had more questions than answers about how schools were going to support our students during this time. We immediately started an internal meeting with supervisors from across the organization called the “lemonade” meeting because we wanted to take a positive, solutions-oriented approach to the challenges, “lemons”, we confronted.

Initially, my husband and son, who was in high school, were home. One week later, my daughter, who was a sophomore in college, returned home too. We were all in our apartment, all the time, finding places to work and learn. It was comforting to be together. Never a family who watched TV together, we binge watched the Great British Baking Show. While the anxiety and stress was high and intense, over time I felt a great relief from the withering meeting schedule I was keeping pre-pandemic.

Then three months later, George Floyd was murdered. Having not yet metabolized the challenges of the pandemic, the world was further destabilized. I considered resigning my leadership position. I very much wanted our organizational accomplishments to survive, but I wasn’t sure I could confront the professional challenges. Fearing that a leadership change during this time wouldn’t be in the best interest of our organization, I stayed another two years. Our organization grew rapidly during this time because the demand for our services was high. But I was overtaxed and over stretched, as was the staff, so about two years after that initial decision to keep everyone home, I resigned.

As we emerge from the pandemic, I now notice how everyone in New York City rushes. I used to love the NYC pace and welcome it, but it now seems frantic to me. I like the flexibility of the hybrid work model and the ability to fulfill my professional responsibilities from many geographical locations. I picked up old hobbies and adopted new ones.

Yet as we emerge from the pandemic, I feel myself and the City shifting back to our old ways. My schedule has once again returned to a withering pace and I am cognizant of the burnout I felt prior to and during the pandemic. As we move forward, like many, I hope to preserve the new hobbies and friendships I have made, a more fluid lifestyle, and the slower pace.