In Alabama and Louisiana, partisan opposition to vaccine surges alongside Delta variant
One day last week in Sheffield, Melton and Grabryan were sitting in a large van in front of a local church. Its parking lot displayed a small white sign advertising Covid-19 vaccine to anyone who wanted it.
Only 18 people showed up. It’s been like that for weeks. At one point, Grabryan laid his head back on the van’s cushy seat, shaking it side to side. “I’ve been out to the funeral home for more visitations this year than I have before,” he said. “There’s no one in this area that doesn’t know someone who was affected by it.”
Grabryan can’t understand what’s holding people back. But then again, maybe he can.
The amount of misinformation and disinformation propagated on Facebook is enormous, he said, and it’s convincing people everywhere in the county that the vaccine is a government plot or unsafe for use.
“Until it starts hitting here really bad again, these people aren’t going to get the shot,” Melton added.
Covid-19 is ever present in northern Alabama these days, as the Delta variant wraps its arms around the population, weaving in and out of homes, schools and churches. But locals rarely discuss the vaccine in public. And health officials believe in a hands-off approach — if they push too hard, they risk alienating their friends. Officials in both Alabama and Louisiana say their governments have in the past shied away from door knocking, trusting that if they put up enough flyers and promote the safety of the vaccine through the media, people would sign up. But that strategy is not working. Vaccination rates have declined in recent weeks.
“I did have a lady come down here and ask why we were pushing something that wasn’t an approved drug. I tried to tell her that this is a volunteer thing and we aren’t pushing it on anybody,” Melton said. “We’re just making it available for the ones that want it. If they want to take it here is the opportunity to take it. If they don’t want to get it, nobody is gonna chase them down and force it on them.”
That approach — believing that people will eventually get the shot to protect themselves and their community — has largely failed in parts of Louisiana, too, despite massive resources being spent to set up vaccine clinics across the state, including in stadiums, grocery stores, school gyms and churches. The vaccine is a non-starter in communities where people say they do not trust the federal government.
An hour east of Baton Rouge in Hammond, La., regional medical director Gina Lagarde sat among piles and piles of personal protective equipment, boxes of vaccine doses, and cardboard signs saying “VACCINES HERE.” Lagarde has brought on volunteers from the Louisiana National Guard to help roll out the vaccine in rural communities nearby. In recent days, vaccine administration numbers have begun to tick up slightly. Still, she said, “We worry we are in the surge now and schools are about to open.”
In a series of interviews, Louisiana regional medical directors and physicians described a horrific last two weeks marked by overcrowded ICUs, people showing up to emergency rooms after suddenly developing shortness of breath, and Covid-19 patients clinging to their last hours before abruptly letting go and dying. Almost all of these people died because they chose not to get the vaccine. And that’s what’s triggered doctors and nurses who are experiencing more anxiety and exhaustion now than they did during the first, second and third surges.
“At least then we didn’t have a vaccine and there was nothing we could do,” said Tonya Jagneaux, a critical care physician at Our Lady of the Lake Regional Medical Center in Baton Rouge. “Sometimes you just feel like screaming.”
The doctors here and across the street at Baton Rouge General Hospital are treating unprecedented numbers of Covid-19 patients. It’s not just the sheer number of cases that they are seeing, doctors say. It is that they are seeing them come in all at once. Jagneaux is sitting in a room at the hospital with her colleagues, discussing the last few days of caring for Covid-19 patients.
“What is different in my opinion this time is that it escalated so quickly. I would expect us to be here in about two weeks, based on the numbers in the community and when we first started seeing the hospitalizations go up,” said Catherine O’Neal, chief medical officer of Our Lady of the Lake. “Now it’s like the doubling time is so much faster. And that’s just the Delta variant.”
The state has recorded an average of 2,400 coronavirus cases in the last 14 days, an uptick of more than 230 percent from the two weeks prior. The patients seeking medical help are younger than ever before, between 30 and 60 years old. And they are dying. Two of the doctors at Our Lady of the Lake hospital say they both lost unvaccinated family members to Covid. In the past several weeks, two nurses in the hospital nearby died, too.
“My absolute favorite patient and clinic, I just want to wrap my hands around every time I see him. He is the worst smoker ever. He’s killing himself. I can’t make him stop. I love that man. I never busted him. We’ve had the talk. He’s not going to quit,” O’Neal said. “I don’t want people to think that we don’t see people who make bad choices for themselves. It’s just that their bad choice has affected their entire community and is grinding to a halt good medical care.”
Forty minutes away at sister hospital Our Lady of Lourdes Regional Medical Center in Lafayette, chief medical officer Henry Kaufman held his head in his hands as he described the latest surge. His surgical staff has had to cut down to one inpatient case a week to accommodate people with Covid-19 patients who need beds.
“How do we pivot and adapt to this changing healthcare environment where we’ve lost a lot of nurses and team members? There are a lot of nurses here who stuck it out during the pandemic, putting their lives at risk. They said, ‘I’ve done my duty, and I am going to take a break.’ And it’s left holes and gaps we’re still trying to fill,” Kaufman said. “We’re reaping what we sow. We failed as a community and a state to convince people this was necessary. And as a result we’re now seeing a wave that is hitting us and it is going to affect families and the local economy. And people are going to die.”
