The Daily - Odessa, Part 3: The Band Bus Quarantine

Episode Date: April 9, 2021

Odessa is a four-part series. All episodes of the show released so far are available here. Last fall, as Odessa High School brought some students back to campus with hybrid instruction, school officials insisted mask wearing, social distancing and campus contact tracing would keep students and faculty safe. And at the beginning of the semester, things seemed to be going OK. But then a spike in coronavirus cases hit town, putting the school’s safety plan to the test. In part three of our four-part series, we follow what happened when a student quarantine stretched the school’s nurses to capacity, fractured friendships and forced some marching band members to miss a critical rite of passage: the last football game of their high school career.

Today, the third installment of our special series documenting life inside one of the nation's first school districts to try to reopen during the pandemic. I was actually wondering if you would show me around your room a little bit. There's like a mess, like literally. It doesn't have to be clean. My room is also not clean. Yeah, it's fine. Okay, okay. Okay, well, I don't know what I should do.

There's my bed. That's like where I do my makeup and whatever. That's it. That's my room. You're like, you can look at the ceiling. I'm not showing you the floor. As a messy person myself, I will not describe for you the state of V&A Cepeda's room on this particular day or whether or not her bed was made.

Right there is like a picture of the whole van from my sophomore year. But I can say that on her walls are some very beloved photographs. Over here is a picture of my quince with all my damas and my chambelan. And above her bed is a favorite photo from her quinceanera. I love it so much. In the photo, she's wearing a poofy white dress with a tiara on top of her long curly

hair. And in her hands, she's holding a mellophone, the marching band version of a French horn. I wanted to incorporate band because a lot of girls incorporate their sports and what they do. My cousin did softball. I did band. V&A's love for the Odessa High School marching band began her freshman year. And by her senior year, she had risen to the highest position in the band. What does that mean, the head drum major? I'm the one that stands in the middle of the big podium that conducts.

Everybody watches me. And what she loves about this position goes beyond conducting. It's pretty cool because you get to get along with the whole band. You're not just in one section like you talk with everybody. Band is like just a family like I have so much love for everyone like it's just. You're very proud. Yeah. But this year COVID had changed all of that for V&A. And it wasn't just that the band had had to dramatically scale back their season with just four football games to play at.

Something else had happened. Something that would reveal the way that this virus can tear apart not just the fabric of people's lives, but their relationships too. Those were my friends. the fabric of people's lives, but their relationships too. Those were my friends. And like, it's really sad because I caused them so much hate for no reason that I couldn't really prevent. It really did hurt me. It all began on the day of the third football game, the biggest football game of the year, the rivalry game between Odessa High School and their crosstown rivals, the Permian Panthers.

V&A and the rest of the team had been preparing for this game for weeks. But on the morning of that game, V&A woke up with a headache. So I had a normal headache in the morning. So I had a normal headache in the morning. I was just like, oh, okay, it's probably my stress because it's a rivalry game and like the biggest game of our season. So I didn't think nothing of it. And throughout the day, it kept on going. And I was like, it's okay.

I drank some medicine. V&A went about her day as she normally would. And when school let out, she put on a fresh face of makeup and her special drum major uniform to meet up with the rest of the band. And then, with her headache still lingering in the background, she got on the bus, full of other band members, and headed out to the game. From the New York Times, I'm Annie Brown. This is Odessa. Back in August, when we first began following Odessa High School's experiment in reopening in person, much of the district's focus was on trying to prevent the students in the already struggling school system from falling further behind. But that was before, two months into the school year, a COVID spike hit the city.

Today, in Part 3, as COVID spreads, tensions grow in Odessa. Long before the COVID numbers started to climb at Odessa High, the plan for fending off the virus at the massive 4,000-student school centered around the school's two nurses. Good morning, Marissa. Good morning. How are you? Good. How are you? Good. Running a little late. I apologize. On a Tuesday morning, one of them, Marissa Molina, signed into a Google Hangout in the school's parking lot to let us follow her into work for the day.

Cute mask. Yeah, thank you. Is that cheetah print? Yes, I think so. Cool. I just throw it on. I don't even know what it is. Classic COVID banter. Okay, let's go in.

All right, so they're ready to go. Perfect. As Marissa leads us down the main hallway of the school towards the nurse's office, every step she takes makes the ice in her water clink against her cup. When the bell rings and the students start trickling into the hallways, Marissa can't help herself, and she springs into action. Put your mask on, please.

Thank you. See, there's, like, one in a bunch that doesn't have their mask on. That was a handshake. You don't want a handshake in front of the nurse. No. I do. It was a handshake. You don't want a handshake in front of the nurse, no? Here's the nurse's office.

Marissa pushes through a clear shower curtain, which the nurses have installed instead of a door, so they can talk to students without actually letting them in the office. We don't even normally let anyone through the curtain unless they are sick and they come straight through and go into our isolation rooms. Can we go say hi to Jamie? I feel like we haven't actually. Yeah, for sure. Okay, do we want to talk to you? I'm busy. This is the other school nurse at OHS, Jamie Newman. Hello, yes, hello.

How you doing, Jamie? How's the morning been? It's been all right. It's okay. Jamie's got red hair and freckles, and she's wearing scrubs. She's been here for a few hours already. Marissa gets here later than I do. We usually, I'm early, she's late, and then I leave early and she stays late. Both women are juggling school nursing with raising young children, and they chose this job

because they love working with kids. Marissa used to work in the NICU, and Jamie is passionate about sex education. How much time do you have for sex ed this year with COVID? Well, we basically just approach it as don't touch her, don't touch him. That's basically it at the moment. That's all we have time for. I suppose pregnancy prevention is just social distance. Yes, it goes with COVID and with pregnancy prevention. Everything else we were doing as nurses has kind of been put on the back burner this year. Now, Jamie and Marissa are almost singularly focused on tracking down COVID cases on campus to try and manage the spread. And they do that through the many-stepped process that is contact tracing during a pandemic,

something neither of them had ever done before this year. So every time a case lands on their desk, I would say, my name is Jamie. I'm one of the nurses at Odessa High School. And I received an email from your student's corral that stated that they had tested positive for COVID. And then I would go through the dates, and the last time the student was on campus. Does she come to campus every day, or is she hybrid?

Every day. So she's been daily. Yeah, okay. Their job is to keep that positive case from coming back to campus and to figure out who they may have exposed when they were there. So they'll ask. You know, were you within six feet for 15 total minutes in one day, any day while you were on campus?

And if so, who? And then hopefully they have names. Sometimes it takes a little investigating to get names out. So I would assure you that I'm not going to say your name. I have to call these kids and let them know they're exposed, but they are not going to know it's you from me. So a lot of this is based on you have to really rely on the kids telling you who they have exposed. I mean, yeah, there's definitely a window where we don't have eyes and there's just literally nothing we can do about that, you know, in that regard.

And that's unfortunate. This process is tedious and it takes a lot of time. But at least in the beginning, the nurses felt like they had a handle on things. I would say the first up until maybe October, the first few months were very, very well-structured. We had a control on any cases or symptoms. We could isolate easy. We could contact trace easily. I felt like we were prepared. We just didn't realize that we were not very prepared for how it was going to play out in the long run. By the middle of October, for the first time since a summer spike, the number of hospitalizations in Odessa started to steeply rise again. And the numbers at the

school were going up. You know, the contact tracing is just so much that it's really hard to keep track of now. We've been a few days behind. I think that's when we realized, whoa, we're kind of losing grip on this. COVID notification from 10-13-2020. Dear Odessa High School team members, I'm sending you this message to let you know that two students here at Odessa High School have tested positive for COVID-19. Around the same time, the teacher we've been following at Odessa High School, Naomi Fuentes, is also noticing the uptick in cases. I'm sending you this message to let you know that a student here at Odessa High School has tested positive for COVID-19. I'm sending

you this message to let you know that three students here at Odessa High School have tested positive for COVID-19. And as she got more and more of those emails. It's already too late. It's here. People are already passing it, so they're just going to come back because they don't know they have it yet. They're not showing symptoms yet. So it's just like never, it's never going to end, you know. There was a noticeable change in the tenor of the audio recordings she was sending us.

Miss Jimenez, she's out. She's in quarantine because she took her dad to the doctor. He had a fever. Well, he tested positive, so she has to be out for the 14 days. But the sad thing is, her dad was just admitted to the hospital, I believe, yesterday. There's another teacher who's in the hospital for COVID, and she doesn't look good. They had to go get her from the auditorium because she showed up to school and she looks like crap.

That's the one who's in the hospital now for COVID. I don't feel safe anymore. I kind of had that false sense of security, but now it's going away. But at this point in the school year, the learning crisis was also intensifying. And the superintendent had recently announced that the district was moving forward with their plan to bring more students onto campus five days a week. I don't think we're ready for that. I don't think it's safe enough yet. I really don't. Hell, our principal tested positive, so how are we safe enough to bring everyone five days a week? The district was also watching the rise in

COVID cases, but it was confident that their precautionary measures made it safe enough to bring more kids on campus. Still, it scared Naomi. And I want to see them. I want to see them five days a week. Our pace will pick up. We'll get more done. I'll get to know them better. But I don't think it's safe. I just don't think it's safe. We'll see what happens.

All of this was the backdrop when a few weeks later, in early November, the Odessa High School marching band and their drum major, fighting back a headache, climbed onto the bus to go to the biggest football game of the season, the rivalry game against the Permian Panthers. A night that would spark the largest quarantine of the semester. The sun had just set as V&A's bus made its way across town to Ratliff Stadium on the night of the Crosstown rivalry game. It was like 20 people on our bus because we had like 12 French horns and then like six saxophones.

I always sit on the front because I don't like sitting in the back or the middle or anything. So I always get the front seat. And then there's always the band mom that's right next to me. And she always talks to me. Like I would always make conversation with them. And then halfway through, somebody was like, let's play Among Us. What'd you play? Among Us. Among Us. What'd you play? Among Us.

Among Us, I guess you can say that. How does it go? It's like that one where it's the imposter and you have to figure out who the imposter is. No? Oh, oh, that's a game you played on the bus. Yeah. For some reason, I thought Among Us was the jazz musician Charles Mingus.

Anyway. Everybody was in their seats with their instrument and everything. Gotcha. And how about masks? Masks? It's those neck gaiters that would slip off easily. I did wear my mask on and off, but I would drink water and just have it like right here. I know that's bad, but I just, you know what I mean? You have a little break.

You put it under your nose. Yeah. When the band got to the game, they took their place in the stands ahead of their halftime performance. And when it was time, V&A led the way, out ahead of the rest of the band, strutting down the 50-yard line,

and climbed up her podium to face the rest of the band, strutting down the 50-yard line, and climbed up her podium to face the rest of the team. She raised her hands in the air, her whistle at Reddy in her mouth. And on her cue, the Odessa High School marching band began to perform for the second time that season. began to perform for the second time that season. And like always, V&A lost herself in the performance. Everything goes away in my mind. Like, I don't know how to explain it.

Like, whenever it's like the games, I didn't feel like COVID was around. Games are normally fun and everything, and I didn't really focus on COVID. Right, it was like a moment where life was kind of normal. Yes. Right. But of course, COVID was around.

In fact, that very night, just minutes before the game kicked off, the superintendent had announced to the district staff that the COVID numbers in the community had gotten too high, and they would have to pause their plan to bring more students on campus five days a week, the plan that had been giving Naomi Fuentes so much anxiety. It was an acknowledgement that in the constant tug of war between the public health crisis and the learning crisis, the virus had won this one. But V&A had no idea that any of this was happening. And after the game ended, as she headed back to the bus. What she had on her mind was grabbing food with

other members of the band. I get on the bus. Nobody on the French horn section wanted to go out. They had other plans too, or their parents didn't let them. So I decided to text my friend to go get food with me. And he was like, no, I can't. I'll tell you once you get home. And I was like, why can't you? He was like, no, I can't. So I was like, okay, I'll just go get food and go home. So when the bus arrives back on campus, Vianney gets in her car and heads to Wingstop. And then I FaceTimed him at the drive-thru. I was like, okay, what do you want? He's like, I don't want anything. I need to tell you something. I was like, tell me. And he was like, I tested positive. I was like, why didn't you tell me that you tested

positive? Because I was with him that week. And we spent a lot of time together. And I was like, you should have told me so I wouldn't have gone or go get tested. So the next morning I told my mom, I was like, should I go get tested? She was like, yeah, of course, you should go get tested. I go get tested, and I test positive. And I'm like, crap. Hi, this is Marissa, the school nurse from OHS, and I was needing to get some more information regarding their exposures and positive cases. The following Monday, Marissa was contact tracing what seemed like a typical positive student case. Of course, this person notified her teachers who notified me, and that's how I found out she was positive.

And then we find out this person was in band at the game, rode the bus to the game on Friday night. So then at that point, that's when I kind of started notifying my administrators, okay, this is bigger than we thought. This person was actually on a bus. This actually wasn't V&A. It was another member of the band. And it wasn't until the next day, while Marissa was trying to track down who else had been on that bus, as she overheard Jamie contact tracing a separate case. I remember her saying something about bus, and I turned around and I'm like, mine was on a bus too. You know what I mean? And we're like,

Is it too much to hope that they were on the same bus? Right, right. They were not on the same bus. And this second case was V&A. Two separate cases on two separate buses from the night of the rivalry game. Oh, crap. Now we need to find out which buses, who was on the bus. We talked to a couple of students and we couldn't get a clear picture of how far apart were they.

Were they all wearing masks? You know, students get on the bus, they start socializing. Maybe they even take off their mask, I don't know. We're not there, so we can't say for sure who were you with, were you wearing your mask, were you six feet apart? We can't narrow it down, so we got to do the whole bus. And so the nurses got to work, quarantining over 40 members of the band. They had determined that V&A had exposed a whole group of horns and saxophones on her bus,

and the other positive student had exposed a whole bus full of clarinet players, and all of them would have to sit out for the next 14 days. And because the fourth and final game was just two weeks away, it meant that they would miss their last game. A game everyone called Senior Night because it celebrated the students who wouldn't be coming back next year. I was upset because it was going to be my last game and there's no more after that because it's my last year. And I waited for so long for senior year. One of the students that was quarantined was a senior clarinet player named Addison Abalos.

This last football game really meant everything to me. Every year, senior night is a big deal. But in a year where seniors have had so many things taken away away it took on even more significance for students like Addison. This game was really important because I was going to get recognized and I was going to have my mom and dad there and I get to look at my mom and see her smile and I was going to get to have my mom this beautiful rose. I'm sorry. I knew it was over.

There was nothing I could do. And then my mom, she argued with them and fought her way through it because they were trying to take away my senior year, like my senior night. My name is Yvonne Abrega, and I am actually an alumni from Odessa High. Oh, really? I was also in the band. When Addison's mom found out that her daughter was being quarantined for her senior night, she was skeptical that this was totally necessary.

Actually, I was at work when they called me and told me my daughter needed to quarantine because somebody in the bus that she was in, or supposedly that she was in, had COVID. And the nurses remember this call very well. There was a parent who I called. I explained that her student was exposed. She told me, no, she wasn't. She told me that it was ruining her senior year, to which I apologize because I understand that it is ruining senior year from a teenage standpoint. And that's the biggest thing in your life at that point is your senior year and prom and football games. football games. So we disconnected our phone call. She ended up calling me back in about five or ten minutes to argue further that her daughter was on the other bus. And so then I explained to her, you know, without giving you too much detail, there are actually two buses. There were two

positive cases. And your daughter was on one of the buses with a positive case. So I asked them if they knew which bus it was on. Are you sure you can't find out which bus it was instead of just assuming? Because we need to make sure. She said, well, do you know which bus? And I, you know, I'm not going to sit here and talk about bus numbers and timeframes. You know, she was on a bus for 30 minutes

with someone who's positive. She's exposed and she can't be here. And I said, is there anything else that we can do? She has no symptoms. They said, nope, she has to be quarantined for 14 days. I said, there's got to be something else you can do if she has no symptoms. They said, nope, she has to be quarantined for 14 days. I said, there's got to be something else you can do to accept her going back so she can do her senior night game.

Finally, after arguing with the nurse, she finally said she can get tested after seven days, but it has to be a PCR test. And if the results come back negative, she can go to the gate. The nurses had a legitimate reason for not offering this information immediately. The head nurse of the whole district told us that at this time in Odessa, because the testing centers were overwhelmed,

the health department had asked them to encourage students and parents to just complete the 14-day quarantine and not to get a test to come out of it early. But because this band mom was insisting, Jamie gave her the option to test early. So we disconnected that call. And then she called me back a third time. And now you understand, Marissa and I were in the dead middle of quarantining, what was it, 49 students and a band director. That takes hours. So the third time she called me, she began to argue again and I stopped her and I said, ma'am, I don't have time to talk to you about this again. You can't argue out of it.

She cannot be here. And she hung up on me. And it didn't stop there. I think that was the most frustrating part. She also went to the principal. Well, I did have to talk to the main principal because it's like they weren't trying to help these kids understand that you can get testing in seven days. They weren't trying to reach out to help these kids or try to get them back into school. These kids are already losing out on the way they should be learning. And they just had this mindset that quarantine 14 days, that's it. You know what I mean? Not even trying to help to get these kids back in.

I don't necessarily disagree with that parent. You know, I'm also a parent of a kid who goes to Exeter County schools. And he needs to be in school. who goes to Exeter County schools, and he needs to be in school. I guess the only argumentative statement I will make is we are doing this because we want the kids here. And we are ignoring our kids and ignoring our family, putting my life on hold to contact trace during a pandemic so that their kids can safely be on campus. And that would be my only argumentative statement. Essentially, the nurses and Yvonne were on either side of the struggle between the health crisis and the learning crisis.

The nurses' job was to do everything they could to keep it safe for kids to go to school in person. But they understood the tension of having to keep some kids out of to go to school in person. But they understood the tension of having to keep some kids out of school in order to do that. I wondered if Yvonne also saw those competing poles. There's something interesting like that I've noticed in having conversations with the superintendent and the teachers and lots of students and the band directors and the nurses and parents is that everyone is so frustrated and it makes sense that they're frustrated with the closest person that is standing in the way of life being normal. But then when you go and talk to like the nurses,

they don't want it to be this way either. And so it seems to me like everyone is so frustrated with each other when really like we're all just mad about the virus. It's crazy. They have a lot of kids. They really do. But maybe ECISD needs to consider hiring some more people to help them. So, I mean, I understand their frustration. But, I mean, at the same time, you know, you have to look at their kids, too. I mean, I don't know. I think these kids are just ready to be back to normal. The nurses would agree that they needed more support. They were stretched so thin already. And it was often calls like these that really put them over the edge.

I actually had a situation with a parent last week where she unloaded on me. And I turned around and unloaded back on her because it had just reached a boiling point. I couldn't, I could not contain myself. You know, she went on to tell me how she's not happy with us. I'm not happy with you, she said. She goes, you're not doing a very good job. And it broke me. It broke me. And I stood up out of my chair. I told her I did not appreciate her attitude in a very loud voice. And I slammed the phone down and hung up on her. it's very overwhelming um and that's you know i mean working around the clock to keep to keep it off campus um and it's overwhelming because because i'm already behind from yesterday and now i'm behind from today and I know as soon as I get to work tomorrow, it's just going to start over. And I'm just like praying for it to be Christmas break. Just come on. Come on, December. We need you. We need a break.

But before Christmas break was the final football game, senior night. And the unfortunate irony of the whole band bus quarantine was that while dozens of members of the band were unable to attend the final game, V&A and the other positive student, who had inadvertently exposed those students to the virus, were allowed to go to the game. CDC guidelines at the time said that while people who are exposed to the virus have to quarantine for 14 days, those who already have it only have to wait 10 days, which meant that V&A's quarantine would end before the final game. In fact, she was even able to go to practice in the days before. I first walk in, everybody looks at me. I was like, okay, it's normal, I guess, because I come

back from having the virus, you know what I mean? And then right before I enter the band hall, there's two trumpet players talking about, oh, did you see V&A's here? And I just walked by it because I didn't want that to bother me. I walk into the band hall and somebody screens Corona. Everybody put your mask on. And I was like, okay, like y'all are being rude for no reason. And I was like, it's okay. I'm tested negative. They don't need to know that. And then I posted on my Twitter. I was like, why does everybody got to be in my business? Because it was really bothering me that everybody was talking about me. Because I don't care when people talk about me, but when it's something that I couldn't control getting, it really bothered me. It really bothered me.

And then one of the guys tweeted something rude that, like, you're so selfish about yourself and all this and all that. And I was like, where is this coming from? I've never done anything to you. I tested negative. And I was like, okay, it's whatever. What V&A didn't know was that rumors were starting to swirl while she'd been away. Rumors about whether she was being completely honest about when she found out she had COVID, or whether she faithfully quarantined. We couldn't track down any concrete evidence to support these accusations, and V&A adamantly denies them. But the stories remained fact for many members of the band.

But the stories remained fact for many members of the band. The trumpets, they made a whole group chat just talking crap about me. And it really, like, did hurt me because some of my good friends were in that section and, like, my own family members in my section talking about me. Just the things that they were saying in that group chat really did affect me. Can you read what they said? Do you have it? Yeah. Okay.

Somebody said, I'm going to be straight with you. We don't want the drum majors at the game. Someone said she could have prevented getting it, so it's her fault. Someone said, how? Yeah, for real. Mask. You said yourself that she told you she refuses to wear her fault. Someone said, how? Yeah, for real, mask. You said yourself that she told you she refuses to wear her mask. Somebody said, you cannot defend her careless actions. And then

someone was like, it's the guy's fault because he didn't tell her that he had it. And then someone said, too bad. It was still irresponsible of her to attend rehearsal today, what was the rush? It's not like we needed her there. She just wanted this attention. It's people like her that ruined this year. Somebody else said, if my best friend and the horns can't play this Friday, she cannot direct us. I refuse to be under her direction. And they made a meme out of me.

Oh. direction. And they made a meme out of me. And then there's more, but I don't know where it's at. That's all right. What is it like for you to read those things? It hurt me because those were my friends. And them talking all that that I couldn't control it really did hurt me because it was a family I really saw it as a family sometimes I'm like I shouldn't should I get out because I don't see the point of being in band no more since it is my senior year and we're not going to go to any competitions so sometimes I'm like, should I get out? Because nobody even talks to me. It's like the coronavirus didn't just take away your senior year. It kind of took away your friends. Yeah.

It was sad. It was like my whole life for four years, like three years. It's like I would always look forward to or something sorry I'm crying it's all right it's all right it seems like it's really painful it is because like band was my world and I was happy I was at my happiest there they're my best friends and like to have no no one to talk to from bed and like how much effort I put into bed

did hurt me so I'm so sorry it's been a really painful year yeah but it's okay I mean life

it's what's happening right now. So. Next time on Odessa. The first semester comes to an end. The marching band plays its final game. And the dual crises of learning and health give rise to a third crisis of mental health. In our fourth and final episode,

the lessons from the district that was among the first to open. Thank you. Editing by Lizzo Balin and Lisa Tobin. Engineering by Brad Fisher. Fact-checking by Ben Phelan. Original composition by Dan Powell and Marion Lozano. Special thanks to Larissa Anderson, Clifford J. Levy, Dana Goldstein, Kate Taylor, Clifford Krause, Apoorva Mundavili, Ken Belsom, Jan Hoffman, Benedict Carey, Laura Kim, Nora Keller, and Lauren Jackson. Here's what else you need to know today. Gun violence in this country is an epidemic.

Let me say it again. Gun violence in this country is an epidemic. Let me say it again. Gun violence in this country is an epidemic, and it's an international embarrassment. On Thursday, President Biden announced a series of executive actions to curb gun violence that would bypass Congress, which remains paralyzed on the issue because of opposition from Republicans. One of those actions is a new rule regulating so-called ghost guns. These are guns that are homemade, built from a kit,

and include directions on how to finish the firearm. Right now, ghost guns are not classified as firearms, meaning their owners are not subjected to background checks. And the components of the guns contain no serial numbers, meaning they cannot be traced. Biden's new rule would both classify the guns as firearms and require that their components have serial numbers. And... Have you formed an opinion to a reasonable degree of medical certainty on the cause of Mr. Floyd's death? Yes, I have.

Would you please tell the jury what that opinion or opinions are? Yes, Mr. Floyd died from a low level of oxygen. On the ninth day in the murder trial of Derek Chauvin, a medical expert who specializes in breathing testified on behalf of the prosecution that George Floyd died from a lack of oxygen, testimony that directly rebuts a central argument being made by the defense. that are going to lead to the shallow breath are going to be that he's turned prone on the street, that he has the handcuffs in place combined with the street, and then that he has a knee on his neck, and then that he has a knee on his back and on his side. The defense has argued that Floyd died in part because of poor health and drugs that were found in his body. But in a moment-by-moment analysis of the more than eight minutes that Chauvin had his knee on Floyd's neck, the medical

expert, Dr. Martin Tobin, argued that even a healthy person would have died under similar circumstances and pointed to an image of Chauvin on top of Floyd. What you're seeing is the orientation of Officer Chauvin. His body build is quite erect here, but in particular what you're seeing is that the toe of his boot is no longer touching the ground. is no longer touching the ground. This means that all of his body weight is being directed down at Mr. Floyd's neck. That's it for The Daily. I'm Michael Barbaro.

See you on Monday.