WASHINGTON — So much has changed so quickly for Joseph Palma that he barely recognizes his life.
On Tuesday last week, he was going to work, helping passengers in the customs area of the Miami airport. The next day, he was laid off without severance or benefits. Five days later, he moved back in with his 59-year-old mother, loading his bed and his clothes into the back of his friend’s pickup truck.
Now he is staring at his bank account — totaling about $3,100 — and waiting on hold for hours at a time with the unemployment office, while cursing at its crashing website.
“I’m feeling scared,” said Palma, who is 41 and nervous about the $15,000 in medical debt he has from two recent hospital stays. “I don’t know what’s the ending. But I know I’m not in good shape.”
For the millions of Americans who found themselves without a job in recent weeks, the sharp and painful change brought a profound sense of disorientation. They were going about their lives, bartending, cleaning, managing events, waiting tables, loading luggage and teaching yoga. And then suddenly they were in free fall, grabbing at any financial help they could find, which in many states this week remained locked away behind crashing websites and overloaded phone lines.
“Everything has changed in a matter of minutes — seconds,” said Tamara Holtey, 29, an accountant for an industrial services company in the Houston area, who was on a cruise to Cozumel, Mexico, as the coronavirus outbreak intensified in the United States and was laid off on her second day back at work.
Now she spends her days applying for jobs online from her home in Alvin, Texas, while she and her wife weigh whether to delay paying their mortgage for a month or two — only to have to pay more in interest.
“It’s just a constant thought in my head: Am I going to lose my house? Am I going to lose everything?” she said. They had been talking about starting to have children, but “that’s on pause now.”
In 17 interviews with people in eight states across the country, Americans who lost their jobs said they were in shock and struggling to grasp the magnitude of the economy’s shutdown, an attempt to slow the spread of the virus. Unlike the last economic earthquake, the financial crisis of 2008, this time there was no getting back out there to look for work, not when people were being told to stay inside. What is more, the layoffs affected not just them, but their spouses, their parents, their siblings and their roommates — even their bosses.
“I don’t think anyone expected it to be like this,” said Mark Kasanic, 48, a server at a brasserie in Cleveland who was one of roughly 300 workers that a locally owned restaurant company laid off last week. Now he is home-schooling his children, ages 5 and 7, one with special needs.
Julian Bruell was one of those who had to deliver the bad news to hourly employees like Kasanic. Bruell, 30, who helps run the company with his father, said that only about 30 employees are left running takeout and delivery at two of its five restaurants. He has not been earning a salary, his goal being to keep the business afloat through the crisis.
“If it’s going to July this may not be sustainable,” he said. “I just want us to have a future.”
On Thursday, he was planning to file for unemployment himself.
In many states, that has been its own wild odyssey. Kasanic said he had spent hours dialing and redialing four Ohio numbers: three wound through a maze of messages that ended with a dead line and a fourth was always busy. His strategy now is to call at four in the morning.
“Getting through is nearly impossible,” he said. “I probably tried calling over 100 times to try to get a hold of somebody.”
Going online has not been any easier.
“I’ve gone on their website and the site would crash or pages would disappear,” he said.
He still has not gotten through. But he is trying.