Pennsylvania and New Jersey starting to slowly reopen | Morning Newsletter

How’s everyone holding up so far? For those who’ve been battling cabin fever, there’s some slightly good news on the horizon as parts of Pennsylvania and New Jersey are beginning to open up. Also, we spoke with Inquirer reporter Amy Rosenberg, who knows the Shore like the back of her hand and has a pulse on how boardwalk businesses have been handling the coronavirus shutdown.

— Tauhid Chappell (morningnewsletter@inquirer.com)

Each week we go behind the scenes with one of our reporters or editors to discuss their work and the challenges they face along the way. This week we chat with Amy Rosenberg on the impact the coronavirus will have on the Jersey Shore.

How is N.J. trying to curb people from visiting the Shore?

Officials from mayors to the governor of New Jersey have repeatedly urged second-home owners to stay in their primary homes. They have also begun closing beaches and boardwalks in towns like Ocean City, Sea Isle, Cape May and, this week, Ventnor. This has been a difficult discussion because second-home owners obviously comprise a huge part of any shore town’s tax base and economy. Locals and local officials know that. But it’s been disconcerting to see the streets and boardwalks suddenly populated with New York and Pennsylvania plates, people riding bikes, taking coolers to the beach, “walking the boards,” bringing in flatbeds of trees to landscape newly bought vacation property, descending on supermarkets stocked for the off-season. But the bigger issue is containing the spread of the coronavirus. Other areas in both the United States and other countries, like Italy and China, saw the virus spread as people traveled to second homes. And what will happen if disproportionate numbers of people here need hospital care? There are relatively few critical care beds in the area. In Cape May, the hospital has 300 beds total.

How is this pandemic impacting the Shore so far? How are businesses coping?

It has been and will be devastating. There are estimates that Atlantic County will be the third hardest-hit county in the country, economically, as its economy is so dependent on hospitality, casinos, and tourism. This was true in the 2008 recession. Atlantic County was a national leader in foreclosures. It was devastating to people and whole communities. Meanwhile, all the casinos are of course now closed, which put 27,000 people out of work. This is the time when new Shore businesses start a rush to open by spring or by Memorial Day. I’ve seen new businesses actually try to open their doors in recent weeks, but with only takeout. How will they survive? And what will happen to the summer? Nobody knows. On the other hand, construction continues on many vacation shore homes.

Do you think this pandemic will permanently change Shore life and culture?

Well, the long-standing, typically good-natured can’t live with 'em, can’t live without 'em tension between second-home owners (who do not like to be called Shoobies) and the locals has really spilled out into the open. The debates online and in real life have at times become mean-spirited. Locals feel second-home owners are being selfish, and potentially endangering them and their communities. Second-home owners, who paid a lot for their homes and pay astronomical taxes, say they have a right to use them. They don’t see why they themselves are a problem and have been surprised at the reaction. For both sides, it’s been disappointing. I wrote a story March 22 headlined “Rifts deepen at the Jersey shore...” and to be honest, rifts have only deepened further since then. Will it last? Hard to say. Hopefully, we will be back on the beach and boardwalks glaring at each other as frenemies this summer to find out.

Has the Shore ever faced this kind of disruption from other pandemics, epidemics, etc?

So living at the Shore, you’re always on the verge of disruption: nor’easters, Hurricane Sandy, casino bankruptcies, beach erosion, sea-level rise, flooding. Hurricane Sandy is the only comparable story I have ever covered down here, and that disrupted and ruined so many lives. So many locals had to leave their homes, forever, and second-home owners scooped them up. Second-home owners may not realize that when they wonder why locals resent them. There’s a huge class difference, generally speaking, between the local population and the vacationers. Former Gov. Christie promised to try to preserve the old blue-collar nature of the Jersey Shore communities after Hurricane Sandy, but many towns have transitioned away from that. Who can afford to buy a home down here anymore? Or keep the beloved shore house in the family anymore? But Hurricane Sandy was an event that happened in basically a couple of days. You left or rode it out, and then you dealt with the aftermath. This still feels terrifyingly unknowable.

Keep in touch with Amy by following her at @amysrosenberg or by emailing her at arosenberg@inquirer.com.

We can’t wait to go back to Cherry Street Pier. Thanks for the photo @cherrystreetpier!

Tag your Instagram posts or tweets with #OurPhilly and we’ll pick our favorite each day to feature in this newsletter and give you a shout-out!

We know many folks are going stir-crazy being cooped up indoors these past few weeks. New Jersey and Pennsylvania are both easing restrictions in certain ways, giving us more opportunities to enjoy the outdoors and get some exercise. That being said, if you do plan on going outside, please be safe and smart about it so you don’t get yourself, or others, potentially sick. What can you do under these loosening restrictions? We’ve made this handy guide (good for bookmarking) to peruse the activities you’re permitted to do: from fishing and hiking to gardening.

I was at my wits’ end about the fogging problem. Following one of the listed ideas, rolling a soft paper tissue beneath the top of the mask worked like magic! Thanks Nick! — montecristo1769 on How to wear a mask and not fog up your glasses.

Random acts of kindness are being done in the name of a young woman who died suddenly, leaving her grieving husband, Ronnie Lomonaco, feeling uplifted as he learns to heal. “There’s something beautiful about not knowing. I don’t even want to try to figure it out,” he said.