LOS ANGELES _ Seth Tom Davis realized how serious the coronavirus outbreak was when he went to buy lunch at the Earl of Sandwich at the Tom Bradley International Terminal at Los Angeles International Airport.
He sat down and laid his jacket on the seat beside him. Poppy, his seizure-alert dog, jumped up and made herself comfortable. Then the Jack Russell terrier-Dalmatian mix sneezed a very big sneeze for a very little dog. The woman beside him, Davis said, "freaked out."
Gov. Gavin Newsom had yet to order Californians to stay at home in an effort to stop the spread of the coronavirus. People were still going to work and traveling. The airport was still bustling; the grocery stores, more or less stocked. But "people got really scared," the 30-year-old said. "They were scared of my dog. They were afraid because she sneezed."
Davis and Poppy have had a rare view of the pandemic's impact on Southern California air travel. They had been living in Terminal 6 at Los Angeles International Airport since Christmas Eve, when Davis fell asleep during a long layover between Seattle and his home in North Dakota.
Davis had been diagnosed with Asperger syndrome and epilepsy. He had been in foster care or adult protective services for most of his three decades. He survived on Social Security and food stamps. As Christmas Eve turned into Christmas Day, his wallet was stolen. Then his identity was hijacked and his bank account plundered.
What was already a precarious life began to spin out of control.
Davis and Poppy were not sick, yet the coronavirus hit them hard. The agencies that could help them, he said, had been mostly overwhelmed or closed in recent weeks. On March 24, he had $5 and change. Poppy was out of dog food.
They were homeless and alone.
"I have to find a way to pay for her food," Davis said. "I have to plan things out."
He sat on the floor of Terminal 6, legs crossed, Poppy on his lap, his arms wrapped around her slight frame. The black swans tattooed on the backs of his hands peeked out from his plaid jacket sleeves.
"I don't know what to do."
On a normal day in Terminal 6 _ that is, of course, if being stranded for three months in the world's fourth-busiest airport is the norm _ Davis rose from his makeshift bed at around 8 a.m. He slept beside a tall metal pillar on the ticketing level between Alaska and United airlines.
Davis wasn't the only person who called LAX home. He had become friendly with Paul Conley, 35, who generally slept a pillar or two away. They watched each others' bags and backs. Conley said he had slept at the airport for about eight months. He was not inclined to discuss his circumstances further.
The noise was a constant, even with stay-at-home orders meant to halt the virus's spread imposed in more than half of U.S. states. Arrival and departure boards were lit up with canceled flights. Airline and airport workers appeared to outnumber travelers. Yet machines still whirred, cellphones buzzed, and announcements rang out over the public address systems.
"Smoking is permitted in designated areas only." "Please take a moment to ensure that the bag you claim is yours." "Hello, this is Allison Janney," boomed the Oscar-winner's recorded voice. "I want to be the first to welcome you to LAX and the city of Los Angeles."
A new message had been added to the din, instructing travelers how to sneeze without infecting others, how to wash their hands and avoid touching their faces, how to keep their distance. No hugs, no handshakes. Davis called this message "the long one." It interrupted conversation and sleep. It warned that "we all have a responsibility to reduce the spread of germs."
The first thing Davis did upon waking was head to the nearby restroom to brush his teeth and wash his hair. Hygiene is important, he said: "I don't like to look bad or smell bad." When he had money, he and Poppy took the shuttle to the airport employee parking lot and walked to the nearby Ralphs supermarket. He'd buy ramen. It was cheap, and the baristas at Starbucks gave him hot water for free.
Many days, he and Poppy also headed to the Westchester Family YMCA. He'd shower there, maybe wash some clothes in the sink and put them through the swimsuit dryer. But then Mayor Eric Garcetti on March 15 ordered all bars, nightclubs, gyms and other Los Angeles venues closed. No more showers.
That same week, President Donald Trump announced he was suspending all travel from Europe to the U.S. for 30 days beginning March 13.
"In the beginning, it didn't empty out so much" at the airport, Davis said. "That was later on. ... In the beginning, it was panic to get back home. Now you can't get back home."
