While photos of the Prime Minister at a meeting on November 13, 2020 have raised questions about the credibility of Partygate’s investigation, they have also led some to reflect on what they were doing that day.
As England were under a 28-day “switch”, their second blockade, it looked like Boris Johnson was raising a glass at number 10 of a colleague leaving drinks.
Elsewhere, others were at the funerals of socially estranged relatives, giving birth to single babies and caring for patients with Covid.
Here some of whose lives were deeply affected by the restrictions remember the date.
“I was given a few hours off to go to the funeral”
Dr. Gareth Jones: “This photo fooled me incredibly.” Photo: Gareth Jones / Guardian Community
When I looked back through the photos I realized that that was the day we buried my Uncle Bob. There is a photo of my wife and son Zachary, who was born just before the first confinement, were outside the crematorium.
Jones’ wife, Dr. Helen Kalaher, and son Zachary are out of Chester Crematorium on November 13, 2020. Photo: Gareth Jones / Guardian Community
I had only been discharged for a few hours in the morning because I was on duty in Covid’s room.
My uncle was a huge character and bigger than life, whose funeral would have been folded under normal circumstances. But we were about 20 and my aunt was still too bad with Covid to attend.
When the two were in the Chester High Dependency Unit with the virus, the staff had taken their beds to the same room so that they could spend the last hours together. I was left behind because of my exposure to Covid.
It was heartbreaking not to be able to hug Archie, my godson, and Bob’s grandson, who was about 16 at the time, at the funeral. Everything seemed awful and bad and then I went back to the theaters.
I understand many of the hardships the government was facing, but this photo made me incredibly angry this morning about the sacrifices we were making. It made my blood boil. Gareth Jones, 40, respiratory consultant, Liverpool
“It’s a time you can never go back to”
Xenia Davis and her newborn son, Rowan, in November 2020. Photo: Xenia Davis / Suplid
I was in labor with my first baby after doing all my scans alone. I was admitted to the hospital around 6pm and my partner was unable to enter until I was partly settled around 4am the next morning. I spent about 10 hours alone; it’s so annoying, even now.
The midwives were lovely and very supportive. I can’t criticize the attention I received, but it was my partner who wanted me. I wanted to be there to support me and I think I also found it very difficult.
Although he was allowed to visit the next day, when my son was born, he still had to leave at 6pm and return the next morning. My son didn’t know his grandparents until he was six months old either.
You can go to another party next week, there is nothing particularly significant about any of them. But having a first baby is a really significant moment that you will never be able to recover from.
How the hell can you run this country and have the arrogance to think that you would get away with this kind of thing? Xenia Davis, 41, choir leader, London
“Seeing the photos makes me cry”
I was at home with my children while my partner was in the hospital with lung cancer, after being diagnosed in May 2020. He had had a complication with his treatment and it had been a week since he left. at A&E because he couldn’t enter.
Between work, and while the kids (babies at the time) were on their screens, he was trying to talk to someone at the hospital about what was happening to him.
According to my WhatsApp messages, it was also the day I ended up coming home. The children knew that their father was very ill, but fortunately they were young enough not to think that he would die, that was what he had in mind.
It almost makes me cry when I see this photo [of Johnson]. I can’t believe this was happening when we were doing our best to make sure no one had Covid.
My partner, who is now better, is less impacted. But I think going through his treatment alone increased his trauma.
The images make me go back to that time in a pretty painful way, but it makes me angry that the strategy is to try to make us forget. Hannah (not her real name), 43, NHS psychologist in the North West of England
“I became more and more isolated”
Zoe from Cornwall: “I feel very distressed and disappointed.” Photo: Zoe / Guardian Community
On November 13, 2020, I was struggling with a mental health crisis caused by the intense fear of Covid-19, frustration at the government’s mismanagement, sadness at the death toll, and forced isolation from me and my teammates because of the confinements. There was nothing in my diary that day, that week, or the weeks before and after.
My employer had sent everyone home, which was the right thing to do. But over the next few months, my lack of contact with my teammates made me increasingly isolated and ineffective in my work. I lost my sense of belonging to something I had previously enjoyed a lot.
My employer usually gives me a lot of support. But in some cases, the managers went to pieces and just didn’t know how to manage a team in that situation. I received advice from my employer, which was helpful, but I finally decided to quit my job.
Some people left my employer at that time for similar reasons. I feel very attacked and disappointed by what is happening with our government and our Prime Minister. It makes me very angry and very sad when I think about what we have all been through and how we have adhered to the rules. Zoe, 50, works in education, Cornwall
“If I had known what I was doing now, I wouldn’t have stuck to the rules.”
November 13th is the day I got a call from my mom’s number. It wasn’t my mother on the phone, though, but a paramedic who was calling to tell her my mother was dead. She died alone in her assisted living room after months without being able to visit us in person due to restrictions.
At the age of 89, she had felt desperately alone but, on the other hand, in good health. Earlier that week I was told on the phone that I would “take a risk” with Covid if I could visit her. But I told him no, I have to follow the rules.
If I had known then what I know now, I would not have thought so. I have no doubt that it was the impact of the confinement that killed her.
If I could go back, I would probably break the rules and make sure I was there for her. Sandra Gould, 61, teacher, Leeds