About Black Swan Day

DESCRIPTION:

Black Swan Day marks the day the COVID-19 situation turned upside down in the United States over the course of eight hours: March 13, 2020. An event is considered a 'Black Swan Event'when it upends norms and changes how society behaves going forward. It is sudden and disruptive. March 13, 2020 certainly fits that description

March 13, 2020, the United States declared a National Emergency over the novel Coronavirus. On that date the US had a total of 2,183 cases with 48 deaths. Globally, the world had recorded 145,417 cases and 5,427 deaths. I'm writing this May 19, 2020. As of May 18, the world has registered 4,888,124 cases and 319,965 deaths with the United States responsible for nearly a third. This is what we're about to engage, and none of us know what we're in for.

Everyone has a story about that day. I offer mine.

At 7:30AM, March 13, 2020, I arrived my office just north of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, wary of the fact it was Friday the 13th, but looking forward to getting the day over so the weekend could start. During this time I was still building LEEP and working in a job I hated, doing direct marketing door-to-door, business-to-business for 100% commission. I really hated it, but it was necessary to get LEEP off the ground.

Every morning we held a ninety minute 'sales meeting' to learn how to train the never ending stream of new recruits, 90% of whom never made it to two months. This day I lucked out. I didn't have to take a trainee into the field. Working on 100% commission, it is a lot easier to sell when you're not hitched to a caboose.

At around 9:30AM I headed to my car, swung on to City Avenue and headed toward downtown on the Schuylkill. This was the first indication I got that this was not going to be a normal day. There wasn't a single car moving westbound on the I-76, not one. Usually, it is near bumper-to-bumper at this time of day. Where were the cars? I eased onto the PA1 northbound. There were no cars going southbound here either. Two miles in, still no cars on the other side. Drivers in other cars going my way were looking around as puzzled as me. This was strange.

Suddenly, over the crest ahead a flood of bubble gum lights and sirens spilled into all the southbound lanes, swelling from the emergency parking to the Jersey barrier dividing us. Dozens and dozens of police motorcycles followed by police cars, fire engines, command cars and ambulances. All fully animated. All sirens blaring. Confused, myself and my car compatriots all eased over to the shoulder. We didn't understand what was going on and none of us were sure what to do. The parade of rapidly moving vehicles was over a mile in length. Then I saw the hearse. It was a funeral procession for a first responder. Now it all made sense, and I relaxed.

It is hard to explain the fear this engendered. My first thought was terrorism. Why else would hundreds of emergency vehicles of every flavor be traveling quickly toward Center City, lights flashing and sirens blaring? Fortunately, it was just a show of respect and not my worst fear.

However, the day continued to get stranger.

My first stop in North Philadelphia was an Irish pub HQ with two locations in Philly. The person I needed to speak with wasn't in, but his father was. I asked about their plans for St. Patrick's Day the following week.

" I don't know Laura," he confided. " My father lived through the 1918 pandemic and we're not sure what this is, yet."

Over 12,000 Philadelphian's lost their lives within six weeks during the 1918 Spanish Flu's second wave. It tore through the city after a Labor Day parade attended by an estimated 200,000 people.

Wishing him luck for St. Patrick's Day, I left and headed into the territory I planned to work that day, an area of light and heavy industrial manufacturing peppered with strip malls and various fast food joints. Fast food restaurants, bars and coffee shops are really important when you work in the field. They have restrooms, sometimes at no charge or just for the cost of a coffee. I started cold calling in an industrial park. After about a half an hour I got my first customer, a multi-location retailer with a warehouse. Fabulous. After about forty minutes with them, I headed to the Starbucks I saw when I entered the territory. Parking, I exited the car, looking forward to sitting down. Instead, a sign at the door read: Take-out only until further notice due to COVID-19. Gingerly, I scanned the other storefronts in the strip mall. Most were closed, except for a Redwing shoe store and Duncan. The closed locations had signs. This was not good.

I hit several other stores in the area and was beginning to panic. I needed a bathroom. The Taco Bell, cheesesteak place and sub shop were all not letting customers inside. Nearly every location I could enter was empty, the proprietors worried and not friendly. This was unusual. Normally only nail salons and pawn shops were mean to me. Everyone was on edge. The longer I worked, the more closed shops and nervous shopkeepers I ran into. By 3PM, I called it a day.

What I didn't know, not having access to a radio during the day, nor am I in the habit of reading news whilst pounding the pavement, is all hell had broken loose. The White House had officially declared a National Emergency over the Coronavirus. There had been several outbreaks in the US reported over the course of the day and suddenly people were discussing shutting everything down. Business owners weren't sure what to do, especially those who had opened their doors in the past year or two.

That weekend, there was a stayed uneasiness. Monday morning's commute was better than Christmas week. Monday work day, I simply checked in on existing clients until my 1:30PM appointment. When I left that, I got the news alert. " The state of Pennsylvania will shut down at 5PM on March 16, 2020."

What the F?!? But, I'm supposed to get my hair cut tomorrow!

I closed my last deal at 2:30PM that Monday and headed to the pub around the corner from my home to mark the end of an era. About 15 of us sat there, drinking cheap wine and bottled beer, tipping the bartender liberally. The owner wandered in around 4PM. The bar, along with most other businesses, would be closing at 5PM that day. We watched the news and tried to make light of this new reality we would all enter. At 4:55PM, a final toast before one-by-one, we stumbled out of the door and made our way home.