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The fraught, freighted number of this particular American moment is a round one brimming with zeroes: 100,000. A hundred thousands. A thousand hundreds. Five thousand score. More than 8,000 dozen. All dead. This is the week when America’s official coronavirus death toll reaches six digits. One hundred thousand lives wiped out by a disease unknown to science a half a year ago. (Anthony, 5/27)

As the U.S. death toll from the coronavirus pandemic climbs closer to 100,000, other countries—especially in South America—are struggling with rising infection rates. The total number of confirmed coronavirus cases neared 5.6 million across 188 countries and regions, with the U.S. making up 1.68 million of those, according to data from Johns Hopkins University. The U.S. death toll exceeded 98,900, while more than 350,000 people world-wide have died from Covid-19, the disease caused by the coronavirus. (Ping, 5/27)

In the rubble of buildings and lives, modern U.S. presidents have met national trauma with words such as these: “I can hear you.” “You have lost too much, but you have not lost everything.” “We have wept with you; we’ve pulled our children tight.” As diverse as they were in eloquence and empathy, George W. Bush, Bill Clinton and Barack Obama each had his own way of piercing the noise of catastrophe and reaching people. (Woodward, 5/27)

As the number of COVID-19 deaths continues its upward march, many of the rituals designed to help people navigate the loss of a loved one aren't possible. One rite of grief that is still happening is the obituary. But with the sheer number of deaths, obituary writers can't write one for every victim of the coronavirus, says Maureen O'Donnell, who's been an obituary writer for the Chicago Sun-Times for more than a decade. (Dorning and Kelly, 5/26)