Mary Wade Neighbors Give 11 Minutes Of Thanks With Pots & Drums

It was a quiet Saturday evening in Fair Haven’s Chatham Square neighborhood until 6:55, when suddenly a chorus of drums, pots and pans, and a violin shattered the silence for about 11 minutes.

The impromptu band of area neighbors had gathered in front of the Mary Wade Home on Pine Street to thank the workers inside who have found themselves working inside a hotspot of the Covid-19 pandemic.

The Fair Haven nursing home has been one of the hardest-hit New Haven nursing home facilities. As of Monday, 33 residents had tested positive for the coronavirus, and 13 had died. One staff member had also died from the virus.

Neighbors decided they would do something to brighten what has been a particularly dark time for those at Mary Wade.

“A bunch of us neighbors were texting about Mary Wade, and one of us said, ​‘We could do one of those cheers for them,’” said Joan Heenan, who can see the large brick nursing home from her house on an adjacent street.

Sarah Miller, another neighbor, contacted Mary Wade to make sure it was OK, and got the go ahead.

At 6:45, only Miller and her family were there, along with Kara Hunter, Mary Wade’s marketing and communications manager. Slowly, people started wandering up Pine Street to join. Some came alone, some with kids in tow, some in groups of two or three. They stood apart, filling out the whole street for at least 50 feet in either direction.

At 6:55, the cheers began.

Miller stood in the middle of the street holding a cardboard sign. ​“We [heart] Mary Wade,” it announced in green letters, the heart in red. Mary Wade is an important part of the Chatham Square neighborhood, she said. They’re partners in many of the things the neighborhood association does.

“We’ve been watching the ambulances,” she added.

A few other neighbors held signs. Most just waved and clapped.

Some had brought instruments. Pablo Cruz, Miller’s son, strummed the strings of his violin on the sidewalk next to the steps leading to the entrance. His brother Mateo bounced around behind him, sometimes banging on a pot with the wooden spoon he carried, and sometimes climbing onto the white railing.

At one point, he held up his spoon to the drummer behind him. The drummer didn’t take it.

A Cttransit bus pulled onto the block. The clappers and sign wavers moved out of the street to let it pass, continuing to clap and cheer and bang on their pots and drums. The driver honked as the bus passed by on its way to the Hamden garage.

One staff member walked out and stood in front of the door. Her mask and glasses obscured the expression on her face as she held up her phone to film.

Above her, a window opened. Through the screen, you could just make out a white mask, scrubs, and a waving hand. The neighbors waved back, the cheers growing louder.

Everyone wore a mask, some colorful, some black, some white, some the blue of typical surgical masks.

The neighbor next to Hunter had gotten more creative. Standing just off the curb, a pink flamingo in a patchwork sweater rang a brass bell.

At five after seven, the crowd began to thin. At 7:06, the drums stopped.

Slowly the families picked up their pots and pans and wandered off down the street bathed in golden evening light.

Hunter stayed behind. She told a group of neighbors that she had just gotten a text that some nurses had teared up. ​“They were very touched,” she told the Independent afterwards. ​“They felt very supported, and actually it brought them to tears knowing that the community was rallying around them.”

Heenan also remained behind with her husband Patrick and her children Sam and Una (pictured above). She stood talking to Fatima Rojas.

She paused for a few seconds when asked when was the last time she had seen that many people in one place. Whenever schools closed, she answered after a moment of thinking. That would mean it had been 51 days.

She said it was nice to see people, and then she paused. ​“I think it’s actually harder to see people and not be able to hug them.”

“We are not designed for social distancing,” said Rojas, shaking her head. ​“Abrázame!” he said, holding out her arms as if giving the hug she wished she were able to give.