got to roll with the punches,” he says. “And I’ve
learned to go where the next thing leads me.
Hopefully, that will be soon.”
JAMES JACKSON
Every day, he confronts the realities of too many
bills, not enough money, a job that’s on hold —
and no timetable for when any of it will change.
Jackson is among tens of thousands of
hospitality workers who’ve been sidelined
in an industry devastated by the pandemic.
His employer, the Diplomat Beach resort in
Hollywood, Florida, closed in March because
of the outbreak. That left Jackson, an assistant
to the bartender and server at a hotel
restaurant, and his wife, an elementary school
teacher, scrambling to provide for their three
asthmatic children.
They’ve tried to shield them from money
troubles. “It’s not their job to go out and make
things happen,” Jackson says. “As a parent, you
don’t want to give kids the perception that the
ground is crumbling under your feet.”
Complicating the situation is Florida’s
unemployment system, which has been
marred by computer glitches and lengthy
delays. Despite countless calls over the months,
Jackson, 51, says he has yet to receive a single
$275 weekly state unemployment check — even
though his last day of work was March 21. That
cap is among the stingiest in the nation.
The stress has frayed his nerves. His doctor,
who waived copayments for visits, prescribed
medicine for his high blood pressure, but
he can’t afford it. His hair is thinning. He
gets migraines.