Raul Valenzuela sat inside his living room in Corpus Christi, Texas, as two firefighters prepared him for a Covid-19 vaccine.
Largely homebound, Valenzuela couldn’t imagine going out for a shot. But he knew the pandemic has been getting worse in the city, so he jumped at the opportunity to get vaccinated at his house.
“I finally got a number off the TV, and I called it,” he said.
As the needle went in, Valenzuela didn’t wince. And in a matter of seconds, he had his first dose, with a Band-Aid as his souvenir.
“Alright, God bless you,” he told the first responders, who may have just saved his life.
In Corpus Christi, a majority-Latino beach town with a population of about 327,000 in Texas’s coastal bend, almost a thousand residents have already died from the virus. And with cases surging out of control again and all intensive care beds filled, local officials are working feverishly to preempt further tragedy.
The saying goes you can bring a horse to water, but you cannot make him drink. With universal in-home vaccinations like Valenzuela’s, Corpus is bringing the water to every horse in town. And still, so many won’t drink.
They’ve been eligible for months, but just a little more than half of the local population age 12 and older has gotten fully vaccinated. Uptake is even lower than in Texas as a whole, which already lags behind much of the country.
Richie Quintero, the city’s deputy fire chief, likened those refusing the vaccine to smokers, drunk drivers and drug users.
“It’s not a frustration or a sentiment that’s different or new. It just happens to be now focused on a virus, as opposed to all of these other possibilities that quite frankly have the same effect,” Quintero said.
Active Covid-19 cases keep climbing in the Corpus area, with hundreds of new positives each day. And barely two weeks into the academic year, the city’s independent school district has reported more than 1,100 infections, the vast majority among students.
Now, around 37% of hospital capacity in the region is dedicated to Covid-19 patients – the highest percentage statewide. No ICU beds are available. Even for children, only five intensive-care beds remain.
Nearly all of the county’s hospitalized Covid-19 patients are unvaccinated, and earlier this week, 15 residents died in a single day.
Yet it couldn’t be easier to get the shot right now. At La Palmera mall, shoppers can walk into a repurposed storefront without an appointment, take the vaccine, and leave within 20 minutes. Likewise, in-home vaccinations make the jab as seamless as ordering food delivery.
“If you work during the daytime, and you want us to come in the evening, we’ll do that. If you are available during the daytime, we’ll come during the daytime,” said the Corpus Christi fire chief Robert Rocha.
“We want to eliminate any barriers to people getting the vaccine.”
Rocha’s firefighters are working overtime after 24-hour shifts to help anyone who wants a shot. They’ve administered more than 6,000 doses to homebound patients since the end of January and more recently vaccinated 229 members of the wider public.
“It’s nice to see people on good days coming to [get] Covid vaccinations, instead of most of the time we’re seeing people at their worst,” said Capt Cody Eyring. The fire department has been answering a lot of calls from Covid-19 patients, on top of responding to car accidents, heart attacks, strokes and other medical emergencies.
Meanwhile, as emergency rooms get inundated, the first responders have requisitioned an ambulance bus for increased capacity. To avoid the sometimes hours-long waits that have been tying up their ambulances, they’ve also started assigning advocates to coordinate with hospitals.
“We know we gotta get people vaccinated. We know we’ve gotta do these programs. We know they work,” said Kenneth Erben, Corpus’s assistant fire chief of operations. “To have to do all of those all at the same time is just an overwhelming task.”
So far, more than a hundred Corpus Christi fire department staff members have been diagnosed with Covid-19. Every day, another spouse, child, parent or sibling falls ill.
“A little more frustration. A little less smiling. Those kinds of things set in,” Quintero said of the rising Covid cases. “Because despite the badge or a title, what have you, we’re all still human beings, with the same types of feelings and hopefully concern for the other person.”
“The best word I can use is exhaustion. It does have a toll on everyone,” he added. “We’re not immune to that.”
As Corpus Christi faces the current crisis, fear has gripped factions of the public. Fully vaccinated residents are flooding the in-home vaccination call center looking for a booster shot, but many aren’t qualified yet.
Operations Capt Robert Cruz keeps a printout detailing who exactly can get a third jab. The gist is only immunocompromised patients are eligible for now – news that makes some callers angry. He pleads with them to give his crews some time.
“We’re all on one mission,” Cruz said. “That’s to take care of the population. Get them their vaccines. Get rid of this nasty virus. So whatever needs to be done for this mission, you know, I’m willing to do it.”
Cruz has started hearing from friends who are finally getting vaccinated, a change of heart he welcomes. “I had one call me earlier. He was all against it. He got Covid. And now he’s all, ‘Hey, I’m ready for my vaccine’,” Cruz said.
“Yes sir, we’ll take care of you.”
At La Palmera’s vaccination clinic, people with family members on ventilators are now coming in for their first shots. Kids, too. They’re afraid they’ll get sick at school and are asking their parents to take them.
Interest waned earlier in the summer, but the site has been busy again for weeks. In recent days, nearly 2,800 people went to the mall for a vaccine.
“A lot of families have lost too many family members to Covid, and they’re coming in for vaccinations,” said Kathy Ard-Blattner, deputy emergency management coordinator for the county. “Vaccination is the key.”
Surrounded by the remnants of a Charming Charlie accessory store, patients checked in last week and got their shots. Masks on, they stared at their phones or chatted. Soon they were out the door.
After Nathaniel Bynum got his second dose, he waited near the exit. At 17 years old, he was finishing up high school before joining the Marines in San Diego.
“I don’t want to get sick. Even though I’m young, I don’t want to transmit it to other people,” Bynum said.
The day before, one of his family members who was severely ill with Covid-19 and pneumonia had needed resuscitation. She had trusted rightwing, Christian talk show hosts over her loved ones. They were also conservatives, but they had wanted her to get the jab.
“I don’t know why it’s controversial. It’s just like getting a flu vaccine. I mean, that’s not controversial,” Bynum said.
“It’s just a vaccination. It’s not that big a deal.”
