While the Prime Minister’s photos at a gathering on November 13, 2020 raised questions about the veracity of the Partygate investigation, they also made some people think about what they did that day.
With England under a 28-day “breaker”, her second block, Boris Johnson appears to be raising a glass at No. 10 to his colleague, leaving drinks behind.
Elsewhere, others were at socially remote funerals of relatives, giving birth to babies alone and caring for patients with Covid.
Here, some of those whose lives have been severely affected by the restrictions remember the date.
“I was allowed a few hours off from work to go to the funeral.”
Dr. Gareth Jones: “This picture made me incredibly angry.” Photo: Gareth Jones / Community of Guardians
When I looked back through the photos, I realized that this was the day we buried my Uncle Bob. There is a picture of my wife and son Zachary, who was born just before the first blockade, standing in front of the crematorium.
Jones ‘wife, Dr. Helen Calaher, and son Zachary in front of the Chester Crematorium on November 13, 2020. Photo: Gareth Jones / Guardians’ Community
I was only allowed a few hours off from work in the morning because I was on call in the Covid ward.
My uncle was a massive hero, bigger than life, whose funeral would be crowded under normal circumstances. But there were about 20 of us and my aunt was still too bad with Covid to attend.
When they were both in the Chester Addiction Unit with the virus, staff had moved their beds to the same room so they could spend the last few hours together. I was standing behind because of my exposure to Covid.
It was heartbreaking not to be able to hug Archie, my godfather, and Bob’s grandson, who was about 16 at the funeral. The whole thing felt awful and wrong, and then I went back to the wards.
I understand many of the difficulties the government is facing, but this picture made me come across this morning because of the sacrifices we made. This made my blood boil. Gareth Jones, 40, breathing consultant, Liverpool
“This is a moment you can never go back to”
Xenia Davis and her newborn son Rowan in November 2020. Photo: Xenia Davis / Delivered
I gave birth to my first baby, doing all my scans myself. I was admitted to the hospital at about 6 pm and my partner was not admitted until I started an established birth at around 4 am the next morning. I had about 10 hours alone – it’s so frustrating, even now.
The midwives were wonderful and really supportive. I can’t blame the care I received, but I wanted my partner with me. He wanted to be there to support me, and I think that was very difficult for him.
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 also did not meet his grandparents until he was six months old.
You can go to another party next week, there is nothing particularly significant in any of them. But having your first baby is a really important moment that you can never get back.
How the hell can you run this country and just have the arrogance to think you’re going to get away with it? Xenia Davis, 41, choir leader, London
“Seeing the photos makes me cry”
I was home with my children while my partner was in the hospital with lung cancer, which was diagnosed in May 2020. He had a complication in his treatment and was for a week after I left him at A&E because we could not to enter.
Between work and while the children (babies at the time) were on their screens, I was trying to talk to someone in the hospital about what was happening to them.
According to my WhatsApp messages, this was also the day he came home. The children knew that their father was really sick, but fortunately they were young enough not to think he was going to die, which was in my head.
It makes me cry a lot when I see this picture [of Johnson]. I can’t believe this was happening when we were trying to make sure no one got Covid.
My partner, who is better now, is less shocked. But I think that just going through his treatment really contributed to his trauma.
The images take me back to that time in a way that is quite painful, but it makes me angry that the strategy is to try to make us forget. Hannah (not her real name), 43, a psychologist at the NHS in North West England
“I became more and more isolated”
Zoe Cornwall: “I feel so upset and disappointed.” Photo: Zoe / Guardian Community
On November 13, 2020, I struggled with a mental health crisis caused by a strong fear of Covid-19, frustration with the government’s mistreatment, sadness over the number of deaths, and isolation imposed on me and my colleagues by the blockade. There was nothing in my diary the other day, that week or the weeks before and after.
My employer had sent everyone home, which was the right thing to do. But in the months that followed, the lack of contact with my team members meant that I became increasingly isolated and inefficient in my work. I lost the sense of belonging to something I used to really enjoy.
My employer is usually very supportive. But in some cases, managers fell apart and simply did not know how to manage a team in this situation. I received advice from my employer, which was helpful, but I eventually decided to quit my job.
Many people then left my employer for similar reasons. I feel so sad and disappointed with what is happening to our government and our Prime Minister. It makes me very angry and sad when I think about what we have all been through and how we all stick to the rules. Zoe, 50, works in education, Cornwall
“If I knew what I was doing now, I wouldn’t follow the rules.”
November 13th is the day I received a phone call from my mother’s number. But not my mother on the phone, but a paramedic who called to say that my mother had died. She died alone in her aid home after months of not being able to visit him in person due to restrictions.
At 89, she felt desperately lonely but otherwise in good health. She told me on the phone earlier that week that she would “paint” with Covid if I could visit him. But I told her no, I have to stick to the rules.
If I knew then what I know now, I would not think so. I have no doubt in my mind that it was the impact of the blockade that killed her.
If I could go back, I would certainly break the rules and make sure I was with her. Sandra Gould, 61, teacher, Leeds
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