The cancellations started hitting my inbox first thing Monday morning, and didn’t let up.
A weekend journalism conference. A monthly breakfast meeting. A local school’s Career Day, where I was going to warn middle-school students about the perils of going into journalism.
All called off, in a scene that was playing out in far more consequential ways all over town.
Mayor Marty Walsh canceled the annual St. Patrick’s Day parade scheduled for Sunday. Meanwhile. State Senator Nick Collins was canceling the traditional breakfast that would have taken place that morning.
The coronavirus was turning Boston into something it has never been in its nearly 400 years of existence — a city where many people don’t want to risk being around other people. Don’t shake hands. Work from home. Meet on Zoom.
Even in its early stages, the outbreak has dealt a serious blow to city life, whose lifeblood is the ability of people to come together.
Walsh strongly defended his decision to cancel the parade as the only responsible call under the circumstances. And he strongly hinted there is more to come, as government grapples with a crisis that is without precedent.
“We haven’t had a community spread, and that’s what we’re concerned about,” Walsh said Tuesday. "People who are trying to equate this to the flu and say more people die of the flu, maybe that’s true.
“But six months ago none of us knew what coronavirus was, or I didn’t. and we weren’t talking about it. I want Bostonians not to be fearful but to be cautious.”
The impact of the shutdowns — those already in place and those to come — will extend well beyond South Boston or St. Patrick’s Day. Former state representative Byron Rushing told me he has been talking to the organizers of Roxbury’s annual Patriots’ Day celebration about how to manage an event that might have to be conducted differently. Churches are already grappling with curtailed physical contact during services, but that may be nothing compared to the restrictions on gathering soon to come.
“The poorer the community, the more traumatic (the effects), because there aren’t a lot of alternatives to meeting face-to-face," Rushing said. “The richer you are, the more alternatives you have to meeting face-to-face. How many Black people in Roxbury regularly meet on Zoom? So I think it’s going to have a big effect. I don’t think anyone’s thought through it.”
Of course, one event that looms large in the city’s collective consciousness is the Boston Marathon. While the race is on — for now — Walsh was at pains Tuesday to say the situation is “fluid” and possibly subject to change. The decision is not his alone, of course. The Marathon goes through — and is permitted by — eight cities and towns. In theory, any of them could decide the risk to public safely is unacceptable and withdraw permission.
Citing the huge financial impact of a cancellation on the city’s coffers — and on charities, which now raise over $60 million a year from the marathon — Walsh said he would prefer a postponement to a cancellation. But even a postponement would be a logistical nightmare. Postponed until when? Will the elite runners still show up?
Some will say — and are saying — the crisis is being blown out of proportion. Walsh bristled when asked about business owners in Southie complaining about the parade cancellation. He noted, correctly, that they have made plenty of money the past few years and will probably do just fine Sunday, too.
“I hope it’s being blown out of proportion,” Walsh said. “I hope I can stand here in three weeks and say it was blown out of proportion, and we did all this preparation for nothing. I’ll be grateful for that. Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s going to be the case.”
For now, Walsh is the mayor of a city that is gradually shutting down. A city that prides itself on being stopped by nothing is suddenly awash in uncertainty. Welcome to Virtual Boston, a place we’ve never known before.
Adrian Walker is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at adrian.walker@globe.com. Follow him @Adrian_Walker.