Photos and words by Sean Rayford

As lockdown measures spread across the South Carolina in March of 2020, I set out to document the experiences of Midlands residents as they grappled with the unfathomable. The resulting three part series, Canceled: A Southern Portrait, featured 18 voices from the community.

Almost a year later, I’ve caught back up with some of those folks. Their stories continue here.

On Christmas day Preach Jacobs parked his Toyota Highlander in front of his parents home, retrieved his holiday dinner from the garage, and returned to his car.

He ate a turkey centered spread prepared by his mother, whom he hasn’t hugged in ten months, and FaceTimed with family. Red velvet cake came along for the ride home.

Just before the holiday, Jacobs’ workplace had a Covid scare. Waiting on test results, there was no way he was going inside with family. Like others, and despite the continued challenges of the pandemic, Jacobs pushes on — and with purpose.

“I'm still expressing. I'm finishing an album up,” says Preach, who recently filmed a music video with his Charlotte based producer. “He shot his footage at home and I shot my footage at home and we spliced it together. The creativity never stops,” says the recording artist, writer, DJ, and record store clerk.

Before March of last year, Preach DJed regular events at a friend’s loft at 701. When Covid took hold, he moved the Loft Sessions to his apartment and went virtual. “There is fruit coming from that now, because Sundance [Film Festival] is here. And the people involved saw what I was doing.” Featured in the Columbia satellite festival program this year: Loft Sessions by Preach Jacobs.

Also the host of The Negro Leagues podcast, Preach recently featured a local doctor as a guest. “We talked about the black community's paranoia with the Covid vaccine. We talked about things like the Tuskeegee Experiment and it was a really, really great conversation that I felt like, ‘Wow! One of these platforms that I’ve had for a while — a lot of times, we're arguing about whether or not Michael Jordan is better than Lebron. And all of a sudden here's an opportunity to do something where I felt the information could be really valuable to the people in the community. I sent it to my mom and my dad.”

Mom’s feedback?

"Great podcast son, but can you not drop the f-bomb when you're talking to a lady?”

During the lockdown period early in the pandemic, comedian Jenn Snyder began regular live-streams from a bathtub. In April, during her birthday episode of the appropriately named “Quarentubby” series, Snyder celebrated by eating pancakes in the tub. “People fucking loved it,” she says.

But as pandemic restrictions loosened, viewership declined and by June, Snyder was back performing on local and regional stages. “My bills have not stopped and people are tipping less and less to watch “Quarentubby,” cuz they are able to go back to their lives - so I've had to go back to work. I've had to go back to doing what I know.”

The comedian’s recent in-person performances have all come from folks approaching her. Normally, she’d be sending available dates to booking agents and venues. But she hasn’t been sending them. “People want entertainment real bad right now. They need it,” she says.

The comedian has performed at outdoor events where venues observed safety precautions and she felt comfortable. She’s also found herself at indoor venues where folks “just didn't give a fuck about masks — and it's scary. I live with my parents and… I get Covid tests like once a week.”

Curiosity Coffee Bar on North Main St. provided one of the safe venues and Snyder is a big fan. “They had this pantry, and if you were out of work and you didn't have money, you could get anything you needed. From food, to hand sani, to toilet paper. They were doing that for people. They had a fund people donated into, and that they had donated into - that artists could [access]. People that were servers, musicians, comics, people like me.”

“It was fun again. I think that's one thing we're all looking for, right? Fun that doesn't feel... dirty?” asks Greg Slattery, referring to end of year outdoor holiday markets at Curiosity Coffee, the shop he co-owns with partner Sandra Moscato.

Pivoting with the needs of the community since March, Curiosity resembled a bodega in the early days of the pandemic. They sold toilet paper and cleaning supplies. Filling that shelf space now, their pandemic precursors — beer and wine.

Free masks in ziplock baggies, sanitizer, and Covid-19 safety signs greet customers inside the front door. The shop was slow to reopen for indoor dining, but there are now a few tables available inside.

At this stage of the pandemic, Slattery wants to provide a safe place for community fun, but sometimes he feels like a school principal. “When we've had to put our foot down, it's not been easy. I don’t get any joy — I know other people may get joy out of yelling at someone to 'Put your mask on!’ I hate it. I absolutely hate it. But you know, it’s those moments when we do stick up for the policies that keep people safe.”

“I find a weird joy in challenges, so I've sorta changed my mindset to think of it as some type of game or puzzle,” he says, before describing the upcoming monthly outdoor hip-hop markets planned the spring. The first edition (Feb. 24) pays homage to New York hip-hop, with genre inspired food, NY beer, and local DJ Kingpin Vov.

Despite his affection for challenges, Slattery concedes, “To always be on edge and looking for someone making people feel uncomfortable, and being a man of my word — it’s just exhausting. I'm so ready for it to be over.”

Sean Rayford is a photojournalist based in Columbia, South Carolina. See more at seanrayford.com

The Long Haul: A Southern Portrait