Beloved Washington Heights Station Agent Dies From Coronavirus

WASHINGTON HEIGHTS, NY — When Charlene Simon left her apartment last week for the first time since her husband Robert died from the coronavirus, she didn't have to share the news — the neighborhood already knew.

Before she could walk a block, the owner of the bodega across the street from her building came out of his store and offered his condolences.

"I asked how did he know. He said he worked in the neighborhood and people haven't seen you or him in days," Charlene shared on Facebook later that day.

"I cried so hard. Robert was [a part] of Washington Heights."

The bodega owner — who told Charlene that Robert, a station agent at the 175th Street stop down the street, once talked with his kids about working in transit — would be far from the last person to notice his absence.

From restaurant workers next to the station who said Robert was their source for neighborhood news, to the elderly woman who made Robert Russian candies and had his kids call her their grandmother, it was clear the 39-year-old father's joy for life had extended far beyond his own.

"Everybody in the community just gravitated towards him," Charlene said. "He always had a smile on his face — people always felt like that was their best friend."

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And of course, nobody more so than his family.

Robert, who was just shy of his 40th birthday, left behind three children, four brothers, a sister, his father, stepmother, mother and extended family, Charlene said.

He and Charlene, who had known each other since they were 14, had just tied the knot in November, but had been creating their "blended family with love and stability" for seven years, she said.

(Courtesy of Charlene Simon).

It was that commitment to family that made Robert head to his station booth each day, even as fear about catching the coronavirus took hold in his family and throughout New York City.

"To him, it was like, 'This is what I have to do, I have to provide for my family,'" Charlene said.

It was March 19 when Robert, despite wearing a mask he brought from home and cleaning his station with Lysol as often as he could, came down with a cough and fever.

Just a few days later, Charlene called an ambulance when Robert, short of breath and weak, couldn't stand up.

The next three weeks would unfold in what has become an all-too familiar story in New York City hospitals overwhelmed by the coronavirus — a touch-and-go fight that changes almost hourly as loved ones wait from afar for FaceTime calls or news from dedicated nurses and doctors.

For Robert, the hospitalization began with a positive diagnosis, then an oxygen mask, and, in just a few days, an induced coma to control dangerously-low oxygen levels and an unstable heart rate.

Despite the virus infecting his kidneys, and eventually causing liver failure, doctors would update Charlene with moments of hope as he responded to dialysis, was given blood transfusions or his fever dipped below 100 degrees.

"One day, Robert was in critical yet stable condition," Charlene wrote in a log she kept. "The next day, it was something totally different."

By April 11, Charlene wrote that Robert would "need a miracle" to fully recover.

Doctors had her come to the hospital for a five-minute visit on April 14 to say goodbye. He died at 3:04 a.m. two days later after going into cardiac arrest.

"His heart just gave up," Charlene said.

The weeks since have been spent grieving Robert despite not being able to gather for a funeral, dealing with overwhelmed New York City funeral homes too busy to cremate Robert — she eventually found one in Yonkers — and the daily emotional toll of living amongst the pandemic that took her husband, Charlene said.

Just on Sunday, Charlene said she had a panic attack while walking her dog and had her son come pick her up.

"Everybody was outside, nobody was wearing masks," Charlene said. "People are dying, my husband is dead and everybody is walking around like it's okay. It's not okay."

But even so, Charlene said she is doing her best to focus on Robert's life, not just the way he died. And there seem to be no shortage of memories to help her do so.

Friends like Wendy Holguin, who started a GoFundMe to help Charlene and her three kids, said they'll remember Robert as a man committed to his wife and children, as someone who loved a good party and a cook who could make amazing wings and "EPIC" mac and cheese.

"He was the epitome of what a good man is," Holguin said.

(Courtesy of Charlene Simon).

To the straphangers who passed him each day and his coworkers, Robert was the smiling station agent who would play music from his booth and try to spread his positive outlook to everyone he met. Robert is among at least 96 MTA workers who have lost their lives to the coronavirus since the pandemic began.

"Rob Simon was known for being a very kind man and doing excellent work, was well-liked by his colleagues and customers, and is an example of the tragedy of this pandemic — a dedicated young public servant taken from us too soon," NYC Transit Interim President Sarah Feinberg said.

And of course, to Charlene, Robert was a best friend, a partner and her "calm during a storm."

"If I had one last chance to speak to him, I would say, 'I love you and don’t worry about us," Charlene wrote in her log. "You will continue to live through us."

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