Ebenezer Missionary Baptist Church

“A playful laugh echoed through the pews.” Ebenezer Missionary Baptist Church, a small sanctuary nestled in New Orleans, held just 75 souls, but their connections ran deep. Pastor Jermaine Landrum knew each one, especially young Ronald Rhodes. He was known for his warm presence and infectious laughter, a vibrant part of the church’s fabric. Landrum would even tease Rhodes during sermons, their shared jokes a testament to their bond. But on that Sunday in March 2020, something felt amiss. Antoinette Franklin, a pillar of Ebenezer for over six decades, was absent. She was a constant, a woman whose faith had weathered even Hurricane Katrina, when services were held on folding chairs amidst the ruins. Her absence was a premonition of the storm to come. Days later, the coronavirus forced Landrum to cancel services for the first time since Katrina. He would never see Rhodes or Franklin again. Antoinette Franklin succumbed to COVID-19 on March 23rd, followed by Ronald Rhodes on March 29th. The small church was devastated. Several other members fell ill, some hospitalized. Tragically, three of Franklin’s sons also perished from the virus in a mere nine days. The grief at Ebenezer was profound, a stark contrast to their experience with Katrina. “We lost everything in Katrina,” Landrum lamented, “but these losses are tougher.” The virus struck at the heart of the community, exposing the vulnerabilities of a historically Black neighborhood grappling with poverty and chronic disease. Ebenezer, a beacon of faith and community, became a microcosm of the city’s suffering. The church held a small, socially distanced memorial for the Franklin family, a testament to their enduring spirit amidst unimaginable loss. Ronald Rhodes, only 28, was another heartbreaking loss. He brought youthful energy to the church, singing off-key in the choir with joyous abandon. His friend, Dajhawn Varnado, recalled, “He loved to sing. You could not tell him he wasn’t hitting the right notes.” Rhodes’ sudden illness and death left a void in the church. The future of Ebenezer remained uncertain. Landrum, grappling with grief and the weight of his congregation’s suffering, struggled to envision Easter Sunday services. The church, once a refuge, now bore the scars of loss. The pandemic had become a new line of demarcation for New Orleans, much like Katrina, forever changing the landscape of the city and the lives of those within Ebenezer Missionary Baptist Church.