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| The Day After |

How Will Parnassah Be Reshaped by Coronavirus?

Rewind to January of 2020 for a minute, and come have coffee with any young guy in Lakewood: He learned in kollel for a few years, got a job, and now he’s ready to go out on his own, perhaps into real estate, medical billing, or some sort of import.

No doubt, he is filled with optimism and confidence; HaKadosh Baruch Hu’s Hand is open and there has never been such an abundance of opportunity.

Now fast-forward to June, maybe July of 2020. The community is reeling. The largest void is felt by the families mourning the hundreds of shomrei Torah u’mitzvos who’ve been felled by this plague. But there are lesser korbanos too: the collateral damage in a tightly bound community that’s had its inside ripped out.

And when the dust settles, our young working guy is facing a crisis he never prepared for. Lakewood is a hub to many Amazon sellers, a fact that made it a perfect setting for entrepreneurs looking to launch small businesses. For so long, the mantra has been “buy it, buy lots of it, and you’ll find a customer, whatever it is.”

Even those who had several years of success, and were comfortable enough to start saving money for simchahs down the road, or perhaps an extension on the house or a summer home in the Catskills, are now in real trouble. The savings are gone — used to tide them over and meet expenses during these months — and now these young businessmen will be starting from scratch. The effect on their tzedakah giving or general spending will be felt immediately.

I have a friend who traveled to China not long ago, investing his life savings — chasunah money, money he and his wife earned over the years working in camp — in manufacturing his own line of paper goods, which he then sold on Amazon. He did nicely, selling primarily to people hosting parties and events. Now there’s a restriction on large gatherings, so there are no sales, no income, and no way to keep the business running.

Another acquaintance sank everything he had — money he got from grandparents and in-laws — into a piece of real estate, and he erected a small strip mall. He lined up other investors and a bank loan, and the small construction fee he took out was how he fed his own family. He planned to have the project finished this spring, with stores moving in by early summer. Now construction is halted, and the tenants he signed up may no longer be in business. How is he meant to live?

Or how about the guy who “made it.” After working for years as a nursing home administrator, he was able to invest in a nursing home of his own. He knew the business inside out, and left his job to run his own home, the fulfillment of a dream and reward for years of 18-hour days.

Then came coronavirus, and the workers stopped coming in because they got infected. He pulled together a skeleton staff and paid them time and a half. The rehab patients he was counting on to fill the beds stopped coming because there was no longer any elective surgery, so no rehab either. Now he can’t cover the huge mortgage and he can only hope the bank will defer — forget about a salary for himself.

The one thing all of the people above — real people, with families and lives who live near you and may well be reading this magazine right now — have in common is that three months ago, they were riding high.

This is reality, for now. Where’s the data? Who says the impact is that severe? Consider this. A local Lakewood shul with mainly working members has been holding a supper giveaway every night since COVID-19 struck. On a regular evening, they serve supper to 250 families: On a typical night, the askanim in charge handed out 1,200 ice creams, 275 pies of pizza, 500 orders of french fries, 200 salads. This is approximately 1,200 meals! In Lakewood of 2020, in a kehillah of working families!

 

Excerpted from Mishpacha Magazine. To view full version, SUBSCRIBE FOR FREE or LOG IN.

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