It began with a few news reports, then hot spots coast to coast, and soon Ohioans were tuning in for “wine with DeWine” as many donned masks, schooled and worked from home, and began to suffer the harsh reality of lonely hospital rooms and empty seats at the holiday table.

Just one year, sure to live on in memes for a generation, saw the wide spread of the novel coronavirus in the world. Loved ones couldn’t visit and health-care workers risked their own health to treat members of the community — young and old alike.

But at year’s end, access to vaccines said to be more than 90 percent effective at preventing COVID-19 has opened up to health-care workers and some of the vulnerable people living in group settings.

Zoom went from a verb describing the action of moving quickly, to a verb describing a way to connect with others to work, learn, stay in touch with friends and family — and to complain.

Layoffs in numerous industries, especially in restaurants, bars and tourist-dependent businesses, shot unemployment claims up. And, though governments acted to provide additional benefits, states such as Ohio erred during rollout, causing delays in benefits and later claims of overpayments — saddling recipients with obligations to return funds.

A mish-mash of protections for renters and homeowners attempted to bandage a possible housing crisis, and CARES Act funding began to pour into local governments and organizations, with plenty of red tape for communities to learn to work within.

FEW EVENTS

The pandemic all but stopped in-person community events and entertainment excursions at blossoming venues and forced kids to trick or treat from the backseats of vehicles.

The community gathered online to start mask exchanges and helping-hands groups, and local restaurants turned to take out to try to stay afloat.

As isolation set in with the cancelation of community dinners, mental health concerns grew with the inability to hold substance use disorder recovery groups, limited church services and visits from friends and loved ones.

Electronic meeting spaces morphed into more popular platforms to receive all sorts of medical care, but people felt the isolation as loved ones in nursing homes could only be visited with through windows, or over the phone or computer.

Groups sent cards, dropped off care packages and formed new ways of sticking together.

School sports were on, and then off; colleges gave virtual tours and transferred many courses online. Teachers created work-from-home packets, and school administrators scheduled food drop-offs for students.

VIRUS SPREAD

Local counties watched the state map go from yellow and orange, to nearly completely red, sprinkled with dots of purple as the state’s public health advisory system updated over the months until the entire state had at least three times the amount of spread to be considered a high incidence county.

The infection seems to know no boundaries, infecting people of all ages and backgrounds, but hitting nursing homes extremely hard. Obituary pages in the newspaper filled up, and social media posts asking for prayers for a relative or friend turned into a steady flow.

But still after deaths, hospitalizations and a widespread public concern, some still defied public health orders as the community slowly became aware that health orders and advisories didn’t have the teeth to enforce or punish failures to adhere to them. Instead of increasing the power of local health departments, the state increased patrols of establishments with liquor licenses and enforced mask wearing with the owners of retail establishments.

With the introduction of several vaccines in the past few weeks, the country turns to vaccine production and distribution. But until enough doses make it into enough arms, public health officials are still pleading for the country to modify holiday celebrations, to keep them small and limited to household members.

Like other holidays since the pandemic began, reducing contact will reduce the surge of spread sure to come on the heels of the holiday, if the advice isn’t heeded.

rfox@tribtoday.com