Comrades through Coronavirus

From election politics to the third wave of the COVID-19 pandemic, the last thing many people are thinking about in 2020 is making new friends.

In the case of Sue Randolph or Joan Engelhaupt, of Manhattan Beach, then that’s exactly what you are doing. From what started as a friendly email to their local neighbors, quickly turned into a weekly display of goodwill and friendship.

With quarantines associated with the coronavirus ramping up in March, the majority of South Bay residents were hesitant to leave their homes, especially those with pre-existing conditions.

That’s where Randolph came in. She and her husband, Ron, decided to reach out through their Map Your Neighborhood program--a communication forum that neighbors use to provide updates around their area.

On it, they offered to help take out trash cans and pick up groceries for anyone in need.

And for Engelhaupt, who has asthma and is in her seventies, this gesture could not have come at a better time.

“At first I was quite panicked about how we were going to get food,” she said. “It seemed prudent if we could avoid going out.”

Having never met Randolph, she responded to the couple’s message asking for some help.

Getting most of her groceries delivered to her car in the Gardena Ralphs parking lot, she asked Randolph to pick up items that she couldn’t find on the grocer’s website.

Excited to help her fellow neighbor, Randolph would phone Engelhaupt before going to stores like Trader Joes and Whole Foods, which were already common stops, to ask if there was anything she might need.

“It’s nice to support somebody,” she said.

Eventually getting closer, these grocery calls would lead to the duo’s Friday night shenanigans.

Sending open letter to those on Map Your Neighborhood, Engelhaupt called on her neighbors to join her and Randolph as they saluted front line workers by walking up Gates Ave. in Manhattan Beach, making as much noise as possible.

Armed with cowbells, pots and pans, and even a drum set, they gathered every Friday night around 8 p.m. to perform their harmonious tribute.

“It’s a silly thing we do,” said Randolph. “It’s a recognition that something important is happening.”

But as time drew its course, eventually Randolph and Engelhaupt were the only neighbors participating in the weekly tradition, sparking a special relationship.

They soon discovered they both knew Italian, were English as a Second Language teachers and had husbands who enjoyed chess.

Reconvening like clockwork at the end of every week, the two, along with Engelhaupt’s husband Ed, would meet, talk and make a ruckus.

“We’re on the same wavelength,” said Engelhaupt. “It’s wonderful to have her in the neighborhood.”

But unlike the friendship, their symphony of sound ended this past week, after nearly seven months—that’s 32 Fridays.

And although they will not be seeing each other as much as they used to, they both eagerly await the day when they can enjoy a meal together.

“There’s something to look forward to,” said Randolph. “We’re [excited] to have them come over and have a nice, long chat.”