Local who contracted the virus share their stories
It’s been a bit over a year since Elmer (El) Covington, 52, of University City contracted the COVID-19. The day before he was diagnosed, March 12, 2020, the World Health Organization had declared the novel coronavirus a pandemic. Covington had no idea that he was among the thousands of Americans who had already been affected. Five days later, the official U.S. death toll had surpassed 100 people. By March 26, the number of dead from the virus had risen to more than 100,000.
Covington is one of four people The St. Louis American interviewed for a COVID-19 story last year. All had contracted the disease in March or April of 2020. One year later, they speak of recovery, residual effects and the mental and physical scars left by the illness.
“Physically, I’m alright,” Covington said, adding: “But, I still have what I call ‘COVID brain’…these mental lapses where I forget things.”
Another lingering malady, Covington said, is increased bouts with anxiety:
“It comes in spurts. My heart starts racing. I have palpitations. My doctor suggests I seek professional help, but I don’t know.”
Anxiety and memory lapses aside, Covington said he’s blessed to still be alive. He’s had the first vaccination shot but still worries:
“A year later and the virus is still with us. What worries me most is the people I care about. My biggest fear is someone close to me getting the virus.”
Eddie Smith, the good-humored, 71-year-old, Morgan Freeman look-alike, was diagnosed with the virus on March 25th. Smith, an HVAC engineer since the late 1960s, spent more than two months in a coma. Recovery brought him out of retirement. Now he’s traveling the country designing the installation and maintenance of air-conditioning systems updated to reduce contamination. Late last year, Smith said he won a three-month contract at a nuclear facility in Hope Falls, Idaho. Today, he’s designing what he calls “clean rooms” at a Pfizer laboratory in Cumberland, Rhode Island.
Smith borrowed from soul singer, James Brown, to describe his current health status:
“I feel real good! I made a full recovery. At 71, I still have a lot to offer. Oh, I still have aches and pains, but I’m supposed to, right? And all I need for that,” Smith joked, “is a good woman to massage me every now and then.”
Rudolph V. Ray, 65, a retired Air Force Chief Master Sergeant and St. Charles resident, also contracted the virus in mid-March. “Mentally,” Ray said he’s in “a good frame of mind” but he still suffers from chronic fatigue:
“I take my vitamins and exercise regularly, but “even with that there are days, like yesterday, when I was bone tired and I hadn’t done a thing.”
The illness hit Ray suddenly. He said he went from being healthy to bed-ridden in a matter of hours. Fortunately, he was able to recover, in isolation, at home. Unlike Covington, he doesn’t suffer from anxiety. Instead, he uses the word “cautious’ to describe his COVID-related concerns:
“It seems like every month a new variant comes out. Even the medical experts aren’t sure what’s coming next. So, yeah, I’m very concerned. “I’m always afraid that I’ll catch it again and I’ll tell you why,” Ray added with a chuckle. “It hurt!”
Ella Owens celebrated her 77th birthday on March 22. Last year, she shared her recollections and reflections after catching the virus the day before Easter. Owens, a devout member of Greater Leonard Missionary Baptist Church in the Old North neighborhood, was convinced that her affliction was God’s way of using her as a testament to his strength. Today, her feelings haven’t changed:
“After that article, I got so many calls from people telling me how it encouraged them. My testament reached so many people who told me how it inspired and encouraged them. That’s what I wanted…to remind people that there is hope in Jesus Christ.”
Owens, who was already a diminutive 113 pounds before she got sick, went down to 89 pounds during her bout with the coronavirus. She’s exercising and walking about three or four days a week, she said, and is now up to 94 pounds. The biggest blow from COVID, she said, is that it disrupted her life at the church where she serves as the administrative assistant and missionary president.
“I really miss visiting people in nursing homes and the sick and poor in the neighborhood. We still have the clothing and food pantry give-a-ways on the first of the month, but I miss the fellowship.”
Owens said she and her husband, Phillip, 78, are “doing fine.” Both have been vaccinated and are planning a trip to California to visit relatives in May. She’s excited that the church is preparing to welcome parishioners back soon. For Owens, COVID-19 was a validation of her faith:
“I’m praying, watching and waiting. I know God is still working. I’m just waiting for Him to move. I’m waiting to go back to church. I know it’s going to happen,” Owens stressed. “I’m waiting to fellowship with my family again, have dinner with them again, hug them and touch their hands again.
“So many families have been affected by the COVID. To have had it and survived, well, that’s something to be thankful for.”
Sylverster Brown, Jr. is The St. Louis American’s inaugural Deaconess Fellow.
