A Jefferson County judge’s father has died as a result COVID-19 and she said the ordeal is by far one of the worst experiences her family has ever endured.

Circuit Judge Nakita Perryman Blocton’s father, 70-year-old Albert “Sonie” Dargan died one week ago today in a New York hospital. Her grandfather died the same day from what family members believe was a broken heart over his son’s absence during his hospitalization.

“I am rarely lost for words but have yet to find the words to truly explain or express what my family has gone through and currently through or how I feel,’’ Blocton said.

Blocton is speaking out about her father’s coronavirus death because she fears people aren’t taking it seriously. She wants people do what is right and best to save and protect themselves, their families and others. “It doesn’t discriminate,’’ she said. “Alabama has an opportunity to get ahead. We need to be ready.”

The judge spoke at length Monday with AL.com about her father’s sudden illness, his eventual death and the aftermath of trying to identify his body and plan a funeral.

Dargan was a U.S. Marine, a retired New York City Transit Authority worker and the father of seven daughters. He was a quiet man who didn’t express much emotion.

“He was a man of very few words, just like my granddad, but when they spoke, they meant what they said. They were both very gentle,’’ Blocton said. “My dad spoke almost like a whisper. He could deliver good news and bad news all in the same voice. He never pandered and was always very direct.”

“My granddad was the same way,’’ she said. “If you wanted drama, you weren’t going to get it from them.”

But, there was no doubt her father was a loving man. At one point, he bought a house in Brooklyn that contained 10 individual apartments in which all units were eventually occupied by his own family members. “He was one of those where his actions spoke louder than words,’’ Blocton said. “But he didn’t have a problem saying, ‘I love you.’’’

The judge said he was a hands-on father who not only raised his own children, but also raised some of his grandchildren. Though Blocton was raised by her mother in Alabama, Dargan was a strong presence in her life when she was a child, often coming to spend holidays with her in Alabama and then taking her back to New York to make sure she was close to her sisters and extended family there.

He was known to surprises to his kids and grandkids – just because. One time, Blocton said, he sent a cactus to Blocton’s daughter while she was away at college in Ohio. “He sent her cactus with a note saying it was something even a college student couldn’t kill,’’ Blocton affectionately recalled. “It was always something just to let you know he was thinking about you.”

Dargan and his wife often traveled, but mostly with family. His father and Blocton’s grandfather – 96-year-old David Dargan – was his best friend.

“They were very close. My dad took him to every doctor’s appointment. He took him to dinner. Took him on walks. Cut his hair. They watched games together,’’ Blocton said. “My dad was the only one who could really take care of him.”

Two years ago, Dargan sold the family house and bought a condo. He and his wife moved his father, known to the family as “Pops” in with them. Both men were in good health with no known medical issues.

One thing Dargan was very serious about was never saying goodbye. He was insistent that those closest to him always say “see ya later” or “talk to ya later” but never, ever goodbye.

In late February or early March, Blocton’s father developed flu-like symptoms and went to the doctor. He was briefly hospitalized, treated and sent home. When he didn’t get better, he went again to the doctor and this time was diagnosed with pneumonia. He was given antibiotics and sent home to recuperate once again.

His condition, however, worsened. “He started getting sicker instead of better,’’ Blocton said. “My dad was not the type to lay down and he was laying in his char. Not sitting. That was so not like him.”

His wife and other family members urged him to go back to the doctor and, on March 16, he kissed his wife on the forehead and took himself to the emergency room at the VA Hospital in Brooklyn where he was admitted immediately. His wife and another daughter followed behind but found they were not allowed to visit him. “They sent them to another side of the building, and it was a special unit they had created for patients – a Covid-19 specialized unit,’’ Blocton said. “That was the first time coronavirus had come up. It had seemed so intangible up until then.”

“I was like, ‘My dad has coronavirus?’ He didn’t do crowds. My grandfather was truly his best friend,’’ Blocton said. “He was a quiet person who didn’t go anywhere. How did he get this? It truly didn’t make any sense. He lived a very boring life.”

It would be two days before the family would hear anything about Dargan. Eventually he was allowed to use his cell phone to call family members, which he did. Blocton talked to him by phone on March 22. “I could tell he was very weak. His breathing was labored,’’ she said. “He said it was worse in the beginning, but he never went into what worst mean. He sounded awful.”

Father and daughter talked briefly about the virus. He said he had been told he had one of the strands that was not considered to be the most-deadly. He also mentioned that someone there had died, and noted the victim was younger than he. “I think he had become concerned and that’s the first time I’ve ever heard concern in his voice,’’ Blocton said. “I got a chance to tell him I loved, him. He was like ‘I love you too and I’ll talk to you later.’ Remember, we didn’t ever say bye to each other.”

Within 10 hours of that conversation, Dargan was on a ventilator. Doctors were keeping the family up to date, with the updates being shared in a family group text message. Blocton said her father was being given hydroxychloroquine - the anti-malaria drug being used with COVID-19 patients – as well as Zithromax and Vitamin C.

He began to suffer from kidney issues in addition to lung problems and was requiring more oxygen. By Sunday, March 29, he seemed to be slightly improving.

On Monday, March 30, Blocton got a phone call from her sister. That was unusual since they family had been communicating through the group text message. She immediately asked if her dad was OK, and then learned her grandfather had been found dead at home that morning.

He had been asking for a week to talk to his son, who couldn’t because of the ventilator. The senior Dargan became depressed, stopped eating and wouldn’t get out of bed. “He knew my dad would go a day without checking on him,’’ Blocton said. “He died of a broken heart.”

A few hours later, about 1 p.m., doctors notified the family that Blocton’s father was improving and he was responding to medication. They were going to turn down his ventilator but were considering dialysis for his kidneys.

Then, at 7 p.m., Blocton got another phone call from her sister. “I said ‘You’re not going to tell me dad is dead.’ You could hear it in her voice,’’ Blocton said.

The hospital told Blocton’s stepmother she would have to wait about two days to come to the hospital to identify his body. When she showed up, however, they told her she couldn’t see him and that the body had already been released to the morgue.

When she got to the morgue – by then it was Thursday – she was told she couldn’t see his body then either. “They’re constantly changing policies as they learn more about the virus,’’ Blocton said.

She was given Dargan’s belongings. However, someone else’s belongings were also in that bag. The family was confused and concerned that they were not able to verify in any way that it was their loved one who had actually passed away.

“At this point, nobody had seen my dad since he said he was going to the doctor on March 16,’’ Blocton said.

The funeral home said they had not been able to yet pick up Dargan’s body from the hospital because the line was too long. Eventually the body was taken to the funeral home, but the family has yet to see proof it is him. They have requested a picture, which they are hoping to get soon.

The funeral home has told them only eight family members can attend the funeral, and the U.S. National Cemetery said no one can attend the burial. “My dad fought for this country and when he gets buried, nobody will be there,’’ she said.

“People are dying left and right. You’ve got funeral homes trying to pick up bodies and they can’t. There are refrigerated trucks,’’ Blocton said. “These are children, fathers and mothers. The numbers are overwhelming, and nobody was prepared for this.”

Blocton said she’s concerned that people in Alabama aren’t taking the illness seriously. She said she’s cringed as she’s watched people pack grocery stores and parks or gather in groups for parties or cookouts.

“It’s something people are watching on TV, but I was living it,’’ she said. “I would like people to take precautions and be prepared. Save yourselves and your relatives.”

“I cannot be still and be silent,’’ Blocton said. “I wanted to share my dad’s journey to help others live.”