Perched above the check-in desk at Belle’s Nail Bar in Starkville sits a one liter pump bottle of hand sanitizer. A vibrant green color, the soothing goop has taken a different form than its widely produced clear-counterpart. And while its appearance has been slightly modified, the protective slime has become the most popular item flowing out of the establishment that earned 2020 Business of the Year in Starkville.
“That’s what it’s all about, trying to help the community,” Belle’s owner Aaron Weiss told The Dispatch. “The community always helps us and has always been there for us. So that’s just our way of trying to help and give back to them.”
With Mississippi governor Tate Reeves leaving establishments like Belle’s closed due to their “non-essential” nature, Weiss is one of a number of local business owners adapting their stores to help the community in its ongoing bout against the COVID-19 pandemic.
Having already stocked the alcohol needed to produce hand sanitizer due to its use in the beauty business, Weiss said the cleansing solvent was an easy alternative to manicures and pedicures. Advertising through the “Starkville Strong” Facebook group, he and his wife make the sanitizer at home before meeting customers outside Belle’s or at spots of their convenience to pass off the product in an attempt to keep the community healthy.
In addition, Weiss placed a basket in front of his store in which patrons can drop off or pick up food donations for those struggling financially through the pandemic.
“Honestly, I mean, that’s just the least we can do,” he said. “You know, for me, when they call me for hand sanitizer we just make it for them for free. At the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about. Right?”
And while the sanitizer solutions have flown off the proverbial shelves at Belle’s, mask-making in the Golden Triangle has also developed into a logical and quick switch for a number of local businesses.
Upon President Donald Trump’s inauguration, the nation’s 45th commander-in-chief raved about a return to the manufacturing process of decades past. Following the President’s wishful thinking, Sturgis resident Gwendolyn Gray — who previously owned a garment factory in the 1990s — renewed her license on Omega Industries within the past four years.
Working with the Southern Foundation, one of Gray’s recent manufacturing projects included securing donated material to create book bags for students ahead of the 2019 school year. But with schools stalled and local residents in need of facial protection, Gray has repurposed her machinery to help stitch masks for free distribution in the community with the help of Weiss.
“I wanted to just do what I could do to help out,” she told The Dispatch. “All I wanted to do is just help the situation.”
Like Gray, Mary Lou Benton and her daughter Crystal Rutherford have found quick work in adjusting their Columbus-based printing operation, Southern Designz, into a mask-making factory of sorts. Closing their shop due to shelter in place orders from Mississippi government officials, Benton worked herself into a frenzy trying to keep busy at home. Lying in bed one night after shuttering the shop, stories of health care workers’ needs for masks graced the social media feed on her cell phone.
Thinking on the subject, Benton conceived the idea to create washable masks from the fabric she had in her store to help those on the front lines of the COVID-19 crisis.
Selling her product for $1.50 compared to the $2.50 she spends making them to ensure health care workers could easily afford them, she hoped to distribute between 100 and 150 masks. As of Saturday, Benton and Rutherford have received over 6,000 orders and another 200-400 are rolling in daily.
And while Benton and Rutherford’s efforts have been matched with overwhelming generosity and appreciation, there remains a faction of folks that are impatient. Working 14 hour days to produce as many masks as possible, backorders take time to fill. But with anxiety and fear creeping into the public psyche, the mother-daughter duo has experienced their share of irritated customers as they fight to keep their business afloat.
“The community has been an outpour of appreciation,” Benton said. “And of course that gets us through the cussing out we get…and we know it’s because people are scared, and they’re desperate.”
“We know we’re doing the right thing because we want to do the right thing and it’s coming from my heart because I wanted to make sure everyone was safe,” she continued. “At the same time, we’re not bringing in any money and we still have to keep the lights on and pay the rent at the shop and stuff. We pray about it every night.”
From lightning strikes to ventilator conversions
Paul B. Jacob High Voltage Laboratory manager David Wallace’s normal routine generally revolves around lightning strikes, millions of volts of AC power and, in his own terms, “blowing up stuff.”
But with COVID-19 continuing to put a strain on the healthcare industry, his lab at Mississippi State promptly shifted into helping convert ventilators from battery powered models to automatic current power — allowing them to be plugged into the wall.
Working in conjunction with Taylor Machine Works, Wallace’s group of mechanical engineers were given 250 ventilators to convert. Spending their first day on the job deciding how to reconfigure the machines, the team completed 48 ventilators.
Laboring long into the night, music ranging from country to rock to instrumental blared around the assembly line in the lab as Wallace’s team rounded out the project with 162 converted ventilators on their third day of work. Three days later, another 48 units arrived from University of Mississippi Medical Center and were converted in short order.
While the ventilator project asked long hours of its participants, Wallace hoped the project and the diverse group of engineers behind it would help show the community how people of different backgrounds could come together and help one another in a trying time.
“You had to look at my group,” he said. “When you like to talk about diversity, I had kids from Iran; I had kids from Bangladesh; I had undergrad students, graduate students; I had a professor in here working; I had the IT guy here — his wife was here. So it was a diverse group of people that came together and we had a great time.”
Ben Portnoy reports on Mississippi State sports for The Dispatch. Follow him on Twitter at @bportnoy15.
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 46 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 46 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
