The battle was lost.

Louis “Louie” Gonzales, 60, a pipe insulator for the Chicago Park District for nearly a decade, was quietly buried Wednesday morning.

Only 10 people were permitted at the gravesite.

Each were told to stand six feet apart.

“It was surreal,” said Gonzales’ wife, Laura.

“We couldn’t even hug each other,” she said. “Not at the funeral. Not at the cemetery. Not even now. None of us.”

“We can’t even celebrate his life together as an entire family. But we know we are not alone,” she added.

As one of the city’s first victims of the deadly coronavirus stalking our nation, and the world, Gonzales was buried according to a new set of rules that have become this pandemic’s new version of the American funeral.

He was an everyman who loved family gatherings, hot dogs, Twinkies, chocolate milk, sci-fi and action movies — and who spent decades volunteering as a baseball and football coach at Northwest Side grade schools.

Gonzales’ struggle for survival ended March 24 — after a month of battling what morphed from a whisper to a roar in a hospital corridor; a week after his ONLY COVID-19 test came back positive.

“Louie was so laid back; calm; a port in the storm,” said his wife. ”Do anything for anybody.”

“He was also one of the richest men I’ve ever met,” said Kathy Tierney, his sister-in-law. “The kind of rich that matters; rich in the love of family and friends, and admiration of his community.

She added: “He loved the song ‘Unanswered Prayers’ by Garth Brooks; loved family gatherings; and adored my sister and their only child, Tommy,” who is 24.

The following is the timeline of the battle leading to Gonzales’ death, according to his family. It shows how quickly this vicious virus can take away a loved one before you even realize what’s happening.

• On Feb. 27, Gonzales, who had been on medical leave due to multiple shoulder injuries, was at Rush Hospital awaiting a green light to return to work after 10 months of rehab.

“He commented on how crowded the orthopedic waiting room was that day, but there was no discussion about the coronavirus,” said his wife. “Later we wondered if it was a possible link to the minor cold-like symptoms he felt almost immediately.”

• On March 2, when Gonzales was due back at work, he went to a Physicians’ Immediate Care clinic in Gladstone Park complaining of a scratchy throat and flu-like symptoms where he was tested for influenza and strep, which came back negative.

“No antibiotics were given because they suspected it was an upper respiratory viral infection,” his wife said.

• March 7: Gonzales, who was diabetic, began coughing and his symptoms became more pronounced. He had no fever.

• March 9: Now suffering chills and body aches, Gonzales returned to the Immediate Care facility, where they sent him directly to the emergency room at Resurrection Hospital, where he was held overnight for observation. Flu tests were negative and an EKG was normal.

• March 10: Before being dismissed from the hospital, Gonzales was given a stress test and an intravenous drip for low magnesium. His wife was now required to wear a mask at the hospital and told to take precautions.

• March 10-13: Although still suffering from a severe cough, he now developed an intermittent low fever. “All he wanted to do was sleep. He could hardly stay awake,” his wife said.” The family was now isolating at home; up until this point they didn’t have a reason to suspect he had the coronavirus.

• March 15: Describing freezing chills and shortness of breath, Gonzales became “extremely lethargic,” his wife said. “We called an ambulance and he was re-admitted to Resurrection Hospital, where he was now tested for COVID-19 and immediately placed in isolation” in the ICU. His wife and son were told they could not stay with him.

• March 16: Gonzales was placed on a ventilator.

• March 18: The test results came back: they finally learned he indeed had COVID-19.

• March 19: “I had hoped we were moving in the right direction until the test results came back,” said his wife, who last saw him through a glass window inside the hospital.

On March 24, Gonzales, who had been sedated since his intubation, died.

The whole thing was a litany of agony.

Since then, the food pantry at St. Tarcissus, where he coached, has been named after him; neighbors and church friends paid respects via a 50-car procession drive-by; and letters were sent from his beloved football kids.

On Wednesday, when Gonzales was buried, Mayor Lori Lightfoot announced the city of Chicago’s first employee had fallen victim to COVID-19. However, she kept the worker’s identity anonymous. The family feels It is more than likely Louie, who died a week before the mayor’s announcement, was not the person she described.

“I believe in moving forward,” said his wife, Laura. “But I have such profound empathy and appreciation for all the health workers putting their lives on the line everyday.

“God bless us all.”