Valuable Lives In The Shadow Of COVID
by Andrew Oliver
This post was originally posted April 21st 2020 on the Roosevelt Islander
Chantel and Gillian singing at a Do For One karaoke event at Coler
I may have never stepped foot on Roosevelt Island had I not met Ralph. He was talking to people on Fulton Street, in Brooklyn, and asking for money. I assumed he was homeless. I asked, “Where do you live?” His eyes lit up: “Roosevelt Island. You take the F train to get there!” He was eager to jot down the directions for me on a torn piece of paper. I felt stuck. Was I to visit him?
So I was. A few days later I exited the island’s F train station and took the red bus toward the lighthouse. Next to it was Coler-Goldwater Specialty Hospital and Nursing Facility, where Ralph lived. His gratitude of having a visitor overflowed into a spontaneous prayer, “Lord, thank you for my friend who came to visit me!”
I now call Roosevelt Island home and lead a small program called Do For One. We build supportive and lasting relationships for people with developmental disabilities. One of the first relationships was when I invited Luis to become Ralph’s helper and friend. Luis visited Ralph regularly. Together they built a community of Coler residents who played dominoes around a table in one of the day rooms. Luis says, “I consider myself a no nonsense kind of guy and I feel like he was the same way. It made me feel comfortable. It was a simple relationship, and even out of that simplicity a lot was being exchanged.”
When I observe the smearing of facts and the lack of care available at Coler during the COVID-19 crisis, I think of the many faces I know who call Coler their home. We must ask ourselves, “how do we measure the value of a life?” With that question in mind, let me say it again. For many, Coler is home. No less than Manhattan Park may be yours. They are your neighbors no less than your friends over at Westview.
I’m thinking about our exuberant neighbor who has called Coler his home since he was a child. Every Christmas he is a soloist at the tree lighting ceremony. He looks forward to it all year! I’m thinking of the karaoke nights where he and I would sing “Nothing’s gonna stop us now” by the 80s pop band Starship. I think of the wonderful and diverse song choices that represent the incredible personalities and backgrounds of residents. I’m thinking about the former tugboat captain who for years lost touch with his family until his Do For One helper reunited him with his daughter over the phone.
I think of our neighbor at Coler who passed away a year ago who was a city driver who got into an accident resulting in severe traumatic brain injury. He was a husband, a father, and former coach. I’m thinking about the man who joined the dominoes table with Ralph and Luis when he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, “I don’t want to die here.”
What is happening to our friends behind the walls of Coler right now? I hear there are numerous deaths and no one can report how many. I hear residents and new patients who’ve tested positive are placed in the same rooms as those without the virus.
The fact that we don’t know the facts is an injustice to the singers and musicians, to the tugboat captain, to the poets, to the dominoes players, and to the dreamers who long for the day when we realize their story matters so they can live to tell it.
Andrew Oliver is the founder and director of Do For One, a relationship-building program for people with developmental disabilities, and a core leader at Hope Astoria Church. Contact Andrew@DoForOne.org
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