On March 11, when Illinois had reported 25 confirmed cases of the novel coronavirus, dozens of people filed into the Robbins Community Center, greeted by a woman who gave each a quick squirt from a bottle of hand sanitizer.

Elbow bumps replaced handshakes, and inside the building’s gymnasium the mood felt like a pep rally, with about 60 Robbins residents being told “we will beat coronavirus, we won’t let coronavirus beat us.”

Earlier that day, the World Health Organization had declared COVID-19 a pandemic, but on that evening things such as wearing masks and social distancing were not yet part of the routine.

Terry Mason, at that time chief operating officer of the Cook County Department of Public Health, told the audience that public health officials were “in sort of uncharted waters” as far as how to respond.

Mason, who a month later would be relieved of his duties with the county, said it was that unknown that is “kind of scarin’ the devil out of everybody.”

Two days later, Gov. J.B. Pritzker would order all public and private schools to close their doors, a pause that was initially thought to be temporary then extended through the end of the school year.

In the weeks and months to come residents of the south and southwest suburbs would see daily life upended in myriad ways.

Clergy at local houses of worship had to, at least early in the year, rely on Facebook and YouTube to deliver sermons. As Holy Week approached, pastors considered the very real possibility of not having parishioners in the pews.

“It would be a stunning thing for our people to lose Easter,” said the Rev. William Corcoran, pastor at St. Elizabeth Seton in Orland Hills.

Easter wasn’t lost, but the tradition of the faithful gathering together went by the wayside.

It would be the same for annual tributes such as Memorial Day and Veterans Day, celebrations of our nation’s independence and commemorations of the 9/11 terrorist attacks.

Concerts, both indoor and outdoor, such as at Tinley Park’s amphitheater, and summer festivals that would typically draw thousands of people had to be called off. Park districts closed playgrounds and swimming pools.

With older people and those with chronic medical conditions being identified early on as being more susceptible to the virus, nursing homes and congregate care centers became hot spots for the virus.

In early May, the Illinois Department of Human Services had reported that more than half the 344 residents at the Elisabeth Ludeman Developmental Center in Park Forest had tested positive for COVID-19.

With older adults, particularly those with other health issues such as diabetes or high blood pressure, at higher risk of suffering severe symptoms, nonprofits such as the PLOWS Council on Aging changed operations.

The organization provides services for seniors in Palos, Lemont, Orland and Worth townships, including delivering meals on a daily basis.

At a March 9 event at Moraine Valley Community College sponsored by PLOWS and intended to provide those working in health care an insight into what was then known about the virus, Michael Ison, professor of infectious diseases at Northwestern University’s Feinberg School of Medicine, said that as the virus spread it would be disruptive.

There would come times, Ison said, when schools and day care centers would be forced to close, which could boost employee absences as parents have to stay home to care for children, Ison said. Businesses, he said, would need to prepare for absences by offering telecommuting where possible.

Loans helped businesses, churches

In the south and southwest suburbs, dozens of businesses and nonprofits, including doctors and dentists, liquor stores, hotels, churches and agencies such as PLOWS benefited from loans through the federal Paycheck Protection Program, part of the initial round of stimulus funds.

For St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Church, collections at Sunday Mass represented the biggest source of income for the Orland Park church.

It was able to get a loan of about $160,000 which allowed the church to keep 23 employees working, including 13 full-time staff.

“We were in a very difficult situation,” the Rev. Artur Sowa, said in July.

The financial infusion allowed Sowa and others to keep the spiritual aspect of the church available, albeit in a virtual sense, to parishioners, who received calls from staff to check on them and the pastor providing online Mass.

PLOWS got a Paycheck Protection Program loan of between $350,000 and $1 million, according to the U.S. Small Business Administration, which allowed it to maintain 71 jobs. The nonprofit did not disclose the exact amount of its loan but noted that demand for its services, such as meal deliveries, were rising as many of the aged it assists were more isolated in their homes.

Remote learning and digital divide

Some school districts, many unprepared for a sudden shift of all students being taught remotely, found technology issues made them ill-prepared.

Over the summer break they beefed up technology, many using federal stimulus money allocated as a result of the pandemic, and outfitted all students with laptop computers and tablets. Some districts with poor internet access provided hot spots for families.

The digital divide in Dolton West School District 148 became a hurdle not all families could clear. The district serves areas of Dolton, Harvey, Riverdale and South Holland, and 91% of its 2,300 students are in low-income households, according to Superintendent Kevin Nohelty.

The district had sufficient laptops to outfit second through eighth graders, but with a federal grant of nearly $1.6 million they bought computers for prekindergarten, kindergarten and first grade students, along with the hot spots, he said.

“We wanted to ensure we have no boundaries when it comes to delivering robust instruction for our students,” Nohelty said.

Matteson Elementary District 162 and Southland College Prep Charter High School in Richton Park, aided by $823,000 in federal funding, poured $1 million into technology upgrades to ensure remote learning would, as much as possible, resemble the experience in the classroom.

Those schools and District 148 opted to start the 2020-2021 school year remotely.

“I’d rather devote the dollars toward delivering robust instruction under our terms rather than reallocating those dollars to try to protect everybody while this virus is still very alive and active,” Nohelty said.

South and southwest suburban school districts also deployed extensive safety measures and adopted plans that limited how many students would be in buildings at a given time.

As summer gave way to fall, however, rising virus rates within their communities forced many districts to abandon any in-person learning. Staffing became an issue as teachers, while not necessarily themselves testing positive for the virus, needed to quarantine because of close contact with someone who had, and student absences spiked for the same reason.

Frustration sets in

In mid-June, frustrated at the pace of the governor’s timetable for reopening the state’s economy, Orland Park officials sued him in federal court, although in early October withdrew the complaint.

The lawsuit alleged that state-imposed restrictions ordered by Pritzker beginning in March violated the due process and equal protection clauses of the U.S. Constitution.

In an Aug. 1 ruling, a federal judge denied a motion by the village seeking a temporary restraining order as well as a preliminary injunction to overturn a series of executive orders issued by the governor. The judge suggested the village and other plaintiffs would have “a negligible likelihood of success” in pressing their claims, which contributed to village officials dropping the case.

But as coronavirus fatigue set in later in the year, owners of some southwest suburban restaurants and bars, desperate to stay afloat, defied orders to not seat customers indoors.

Patrons of businesses, such as Gina’s Teardrop Café in New Lenox, said it was a straightforward choice.

“We’ve got to support our local businesses,” said Don Smith of New Lenox. “They’re either going to open for business, or they’re going to close permanently.”

Initially, before Tier 3 mitigation measures were expanded statewide Nov. 20, some business owners raised the question of fairness in how it was determined who could let customers inside and who couldn’t.

Will County businesses said they were at a disadvantage by being in a region under Tier 3 while in some instances competitors, perhaps just blocks away, were able to continue to welcome customers indoors.

As relatively mild fall weather turned colder, and restrictions on indoor dining and bar service stuck around, some restaurants and bars found creative ways to stay open. Some invested in tents and propane heaters in a bid to keep outdoor customers reasonably comfortable. Communities such as Lemont and Tinley Park offered grants to businesses to help them pay for outdoor accommodations.

Business shutdowns due to the pandemic began taking their toll on municipal finances, and the effects were expected to linger into 2021. Communities began furloughing workers and found other way to cut costs.

In the spring, Oak Lawn Mayor Sandra Bury said her village was looking at drop of revenue in the range of $8 million to $10 million and had trimmed some positions to curb expenses.

“It’s gut-wrenching, heartbreaking and extremely difficult,” she said at the time.

Orland Park, which relies on sales tax revenue as its biggest income source, said in approving its 2021 budget recently that sales tax revenue in the coming year could be down 7% from this year.

By late December, the arrival of a vaccine at hospitals and long-term care facilities gave hope that, globally and regionally, the tide may have turned.

Workers at hospitals in the south and southwest suburbs began getting their initial shots just before Christmas, with follow-up doses scheduled in January.

It will be perhaps several months before vaccines are more widely available to the general public, with public health agencies in Cook and Will counties studying how to best distribute them. Will County recently launched an online registry where residents can log their information in a bid to get in line for the shots.

mnolan@tribpub.com