[dirk digler]

or like this. And when I heard about that biogen conference I told my employer I wasn't going to the IT conference that I had scheduled in March. **** that.

It was an old-fashioned Southern funeral.

There was a repast table crammed with casseroles, Brunswick stew, fried chicken and key lime cake. Andrew Jerome Mitchell, a retired janitor, was one of 10 siblings. They told stories, debated for the umpteenth time how he got the nickname Doorface.

People wiped tears away, and embraced, and blew their noses, and belted out hymns. They laughed, remembering. It was a big gathering, with upward of 200 mourners overflowing the memorial chapel, so people had to stand outside.

Dorothy Johnson has gone over the scene in her mind over the last month, asking herself who it was who brought the virus to her brother’s funeral.
“We don’t know who the person was,” she said. “It would help me to know.”

During the weeks that followed, illnesses linked to the coronavirus have torn through her hometown, Albany, Ga., with about two dozen relatives falling ill, including six of her siblings. Ms. Johnson herself was released from an isolation ward to the news that her daughter, Tonya, was in grave condition, her heart rate dropping.

Like the Biogen conference in Boston and a 40th birthday party in Westport, Conn., the funeral of Andrew Jerome Mitchell on Feb. 29 will be recorded as what epidemiologists call a “super-spreading event,” in which a small number of people propagate a huge number of infections.

With a population of only 90,000, Dougherty County has registered 24 deaths, far more than any other county in the state, with six more possible coronavirus deaths under investigation, according to Michael L. Fowler, the local coroner. Ninety percent of the people who died were African-American, he said.