Reed: COVID-19 impacted my family, sidetracked my transition to the Raiders beat

I wasn’t sure what to expect when The Athletic’s chief legal officer, David Ortenberg, asked to speak on the phone on the afternoon of March 10. While I was in the middle of covering Florida State’s spring football practice, I’d applied for openings within the company earlier in the year and was awaiting final word.

I’d seen David a couple of weeks prior at the NFL Scouting Combine in Indianapolis and we discussed the opportunities then, but the topic hadn’t come up since. After some quick catching up, David gave me the news: I was being offered the job to cover the Raiders for The Athletic.

I was elated. Although I thoroughly enjoyed covering the Seminoles for two seasons, my goal was always to cover a professional beat. I couldn’t have fathomed it would happen less than two years after I graduated from Missouri.

The first person I told was my dad, Kenneth Reed Sr., and he was even more excited than me. After having similar conversations with the rest of my immediate family, my thoughts quickly shifted from emotional to practical.

Above all else, my two chief concerns were what it would take to relocate more than 2,000 miles from Tallahassee, Fla., to Las Vegas, and my strategy for acclimating to the NFL from college football. Soon, each of those tasks would shift far from my focus.

March 12

Florida State had its last practice before spring break and I decided to spend the time off with my sister Nancy Simmons at her home in Georgia. I was going to return to Tallahassee and cover the Seminoles until the end of March. From there, I’d break my lease and start the move to Las Vegas.

While I was driving on the highway to Georgia, my older brother Kenneth Reed Jr. called to let me know that our uncle John Reed had passed away. I immediately called my dad, who was too distraught to speak. In retrospect, I should’ve stopped, pulled over, processed what happened and collected my thoughts. Instead, I drove through it while my mind swirled.

John had struggled with alcoholism and had a stroke in 2019 as a result. His health deteriorated leading up to his fatal heart attack March 12. It was something my family saw coming, but it didn’t hurt any less.

Although the COVID-19 outbreak caused the NBA to suspend its season the night before and led the ACC to cancel all activities for the rest of the spring that Thursday, I still didn’t view it as something that would restrict my ability to travel. It was always my plan to return home to St. Louis for a period before I relocated to Las Vegas, but I found myself working through the logistics to return for a funeral.

March 14-19

As I researched and took in the coverage surrounding COVID-19, I realized going home wouldn’t be an option. I found out just how highly contagious COVID-19 is and that it was spreading quickly throughout the world. Traveling wouldn’t just potentially expose me to the virus, but my family members back home as well.

Nancy, her husband, my niece and my two nephews were already abiding by stay-at-home protocols and I advised all of my loved ones to do the same. Unbeknown to me, my dad and several of my uncles and aunts went to a bar in St. Louis to celebrate my uncle Carlos’ 60th birthday on March 14. I didn’t find out until after the fact, which irritated me, but I understood why they wanted to get together shortly after losing my uncle John.

John was laid to rest on March 19 at Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery outside St. Louis. My family members who attended were spaced apart. They avoided hugging, kissing and speaking closely to one another. That weekend, my dad and his wife, Cassandra Reed, started driving to join us in Georgia for a trip that’d been planned weeks in advance.

We intended to spend a few days hanging out, cooking, watching TV and movies, listening to music and enjoying one another to help move past the grief. Unfortunately, some troubling news soon emerged.

The Reed family celebrates Carlos Reed’s 60th birthday. (Tashan Reed / The Athletic)

March 23-30

My dad cut his trip short to return to St. Louis on the morning of March 23. Shortly after the funeral, Carlos had started to feel sick. He couldn’t sleep, was feeling nauseated and had flu-like symptoms. They became so intense that, on March 24, he had my cousin take him to DePaul Hospital in St. Louis. They weren’t sure what was wrong but decided to test him for COVID-19.

Although my dad felt fine, he went to Carlos’ birthday party and sat close to him at John’s funeral. Even before Carlos was hospitalized, he’d figured that, due to the symptoms, he likely had COVID-19 and was concerned he may have picked it up as well. He went to get tested a couple days after he got home.

Given that Carlos, 60, was diabetic and my dad, 72, has asthma, I couldn’t stop worrying. I didn’t think about what the contact that I had with my dad could mean for me, nor did I feel much like celebrating when I turned 24 on March 25.

It helped to be around my sister and her family. They provided comfort, lifted my spirits and made sure I had plenty of food and supplies. I was able to go back to Tallahassee, pack my personal items and load my car, break my lease and return to their home to stay there indefinitely without issue.

Carlos tested positive for COVID-19 and his condition regressed to the point where he needed a respirator to breathe. He also had to be put on dialysis as his diabetes caused extensive complications. I could no longer contact him. None of my family members could visit him. It felt cold. I thought it was wrong not to be there for him. I knew he was afraid and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

My dad had started developing flu-like symptoms, too. He ran a fever, was fatigued to the point where he could hardly stand up, had extreme nausea and didn’t have much of an appetite.

One thing about my dad: He cooks almost every day. He’s retired and has a passion for trying new recipes and enjoying staples he’s made for decades. It sounds small, but I knew it was bad when he no longer had the energy to make his own meal.

On March 30, my dad’s test also came back positive for COVID-19. I was clutched by fear, but I tried not to show it as I called him to extend my financial, emotional and mental support. My four siblings did the same thing; whatever he needed, we’d take care of him. My dad, who grew up in the Pruitt-Igoe projects in St. Louis and worked his entire life, isn’t one for charity, but seeing that response from his children touched him.

Nobody who he’d recently come into contact with— my stepmom, myself, my sister and her family — had developed symptoms, so we weren’t tested. Still, we all followed a strict quarantine in response.

I knew I could’ve had COVID-19 as well but, honestly, I didn’t care. I just wanted my dad and uncle to be OK.

Carlos Reed, left, and John Reed (Tashan Reed / The Athletic)

April 1-2

My work became my coping mechanism. Staying busy didn’t take my mind off my personal issues, but it kept me going. Productivity brought stability.

After finishing my last few stories on the Florida State beat in March, I transitioned to studying the Raiders. I closely followed free agency, reviewed game film, read articles, reviewed the franchise’s history and watched documentaries. I also had several conversations with my partner, Vic Tafur, and editors Lisa Wilson and Amy Parlapiano in order to plan coverage for the NFL Draft.

I announced I was moving to Las Vegas to cover the Raiders on April 1. The outpouring of congratulations, welcoming words and support through social media, The Athletic and text messages were reinvigorating. I had a new excitement to get started despite the unfavorable circumstances. The emotional high persisted throughout the entire day.

The next morning, I woke up to the news that Carlos passed away due to complications with COVID-19. The doctors had attempted to take him off of the ventilator a few days prior, but his body wouldn’t respond. He couldn’t get air early that morning and died as a result.

It almost didn’t feel real. Only a couple weeks ago, Carlos was celebrating turning 60. He was smiling, happy and surrounded by loved ones. Not only was he gone, but he transitioned without being able to communicate with or have family members visit. I felt hollow, angry and guilty all at once. Carlos knew we loved him, but being robbed of the chance to say goodbye was particularly difficult.

More than myself, though, I was worried about my dad. Not only was he continuing to battle the virus, but he’d lost two brothers in less than a month. While nothing could make that pain go away, it drove me crazy not being able to be there in person to help him recover and move forward.

Just like that, all the joy from the day prior was gone. COVID-19 took my uncle; I still didn’t know if it would take my dad.

April 10-16

Thankfully, my dad’s condition gradually began to improve. First, he no longer had fever spells. Next, the nausea left. The most persistent symptom was fatigue. The biggest positive factors were that he’d avoided breathing issues and didn’t have to be hospitalized. He later developed a cough, but it wasn’t dry. His spirits lifted as he gained strength and, in a way, mine rose along with him.

If my dad was able to power through losing two brothers and fighting COVID-19, what room did I have to complain? It allowed me to refocus on the task at hand and I jumped headfirst into the Raiders beat. The work came naturally, the feedback was strong, I quickly developed strong chemistry with my partners and my editors provided excellent feedback.

I was still working remotely from Georgia and monitoring the status of my family members back home, but things were going smoothly. Then, on April 10, my 90-year-old grandmother, Maggie Long, tested positive for COVID-19. She hadn’t shown any symptoms, but someone in her nursing home fell ill and they tested her out of precaution.

My mother, Brenda Reed, was emotional and feared the worst given my grandmother’s age. I tried to find comfort in the fact she was symptom-free, but I was painfully aware of what the final outcome may be.

Miraculously, my grandma never developed COVID-19 symptoms. Simultaneously, my dad had a breakthrough. For the most part, his symptoms ceased. And, on April 16, he was cleared of COVID-19. Soon, my grandmother would be, too.

I can’t remember a time when I was more jubilant. The pain of losing Carlos hadn’t subsided — and it never will — but I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to celebrate those two victories. Meanwhile, my transition to the Raiders was going off without a hitch. Finally, I was able to make firm plans to return home to St. Louis.

Tashan Reed and Brenda Reed. (Tashan Reed / The Athletic)

April 21-May 29

I was excited the entire nine-hour drive from Georgia to my dad’s house in St. Louis on April 21. While there weren’t strict restrictions back home, I planned to follow social distancing and stay-at-home guidelines and knew I wouldn’t be able to see everyone. I also didn’t have a firm timetable for when I’d actually move to Las Vegas. Regardless, I’d have the opportunity to spend quality time with my dad and I was endlessly grateful for that.

Ironically, my dad wasn’t home when I arrived. He was making a run at the Aldi grocery store down the street, which made perfect sense. After greeting my stepmom, I pulled up to the store and surprised him in the parking lot. That reunion meant everything.

To be clear, I know COVID-19 hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s not certain whether people have immunity once they fight it off and the vast majority of my family members haven’t tested positive. By then, though, I’d helped convince everyone who needed convincing about the importance of staying home. As a family, we supported those who needed help.

With those things in place, I was able to enjoy my time at home with no real thoughts of COVID-19. That’s a privileged statement, but it was my reality given my continued employment at The Athletic and that no more of my loved ones had contracted the virus.

The days were simple — I’d go on a morning run, get some work done, watch TV, binge shows or a cue up a movie with my dad and catch up with other family and friends over the phone — but I thoroughly enjoyed it. As Nevada started to gradually reopen, I put plans in motion to arrive in Vegas on June 1.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t very nervous about moving 1,600 miles west. Rather, I was ready to kick off the next chapter.

June 1

Starting on May 29, I drove around 24 hours on my way to Las Vegas. I traveled alone, so I made stops in Kansas City, Denver and Grand Junction, Colo., before I made it to my destination. It was an adventurous drive ranging from the cornfields of Kansas to the beautiful mountain ranges of Colorado. It was also tiring, but I had help along the way.

The Athletic’s Colorado Avalanche beat writer, Ryan S. Clark, and his wife let me stay at their Denver home from the afternoon of May 30 into the early afternoon of May 31. Neither of them were immunosuppressed, so I felt comfortable accepting the offer while acknowledging there was a chance of exposure. It was refreshing to get a break, catch up with my coworker and mentor and relax before I continued. Clark and his family were extremely welcoming and I’m thankful.

From there, I tackled my first stretch of mountain driving on my way from Denver to Grand Junction. It was somehow beautiful and terrifying at the same time. After stopping the night of May 31, I woke up early June 1 to hit the final stretch to Las Vegas.

I found myself getting thrilled again as I drew closer. While I’d technically already been in Las Vegas for several minutes, it really hit me when I passed Allegiant Stadium.

24 hours of driving later: pic.twitter.com/K8Qj3N9UEw

— Tashan Reed (@tashanreed) June 1, 2020

The past three months have been a whirlwind of emotions, but I’m excited to be here. Although my coverage began months ago, I’ll be able to dive deeper into the Raiders, their new community and even other teams such as the Aces.

Due to the ongoing fallout of COVID-19, the lingering grief from its impact on my family and the recent events surrounding the death of George Floyd at the hands of police officers in Minneapolis, my mind is heavy. I still feel sadness, anger and frustration, but I’m ready to take this next step.

Little about my transition went to plan, but here we are. Let’s go.

(Photo of Tashan Reed, right, and Kenneth Reed Sr.: Tashan Reed / The Athletic)