The date was Thursday, February 27, 2020. The time was 7.05pm.
We had been warned it was coming. What we did not realise at the time was the full extent of how the news, that Northern Ireland had its first confirmed case of coronavirus, would change our lives.
Schools were closed, exams disrupted, shops shut, businesses plunged into financial chaos.
Words and phrases we had never heard before have become part of the daily discourse. We have been confined to our homes, losing much of what we took for granted for so long.
Today, it is 100 days on from that first case.
Those 100 days have changed how we live our lives, and sadly, to date, have seen 757 registered Covid-19-related deaths, based on Nisra figures to May 29.
Initial news of the impending health crisis sparked a rush to buy hand sanitiser and, surprisingly, toilet roll.
By March 4 there were warnings over school trips to Italy and Spain and fears over available beds in intensive care units ahead of a surge in cases.
A day later, the economic impact hit for the first time with the collapse of airline Flybe. Already in trouble, Covid-19 dealt the final blow to the carrier.
It was already clear the tourism, travel and hospitality industries were going to be hardest hit.
The first real indication on how life would change came on March 9 when Belfast City Council cancelled the annual St Patrick's Day parade to prevent a mass gathering in the city centre. Outside of the medical profession, not many would have known of the existence of 'coronavirus' or 'Covid-19' at the dawn of 2020. We had never considered - or heard of - the concept of 'social distancing'.
By March 11 there were 18 confirmed cases and, even at that early stage, concern was being expressed at how well equipped our care homes were to deal with the spread of the virus among the most vulnerable in society.
The phrase 'stay home, stay safe' was coined on March 17, St Patrick's Day, and with Taoiseach Leo Varadkar going on RTE with a wartime-like address to the Irish people, the debate started to rage over why Northern Ireland was being so slow to react. Things escalated quickly. High street stores which had not already closed here began to shut up shop. The normally bustling city centre turned into a ghost town. Restaurants, pubs and cafes that hadn't already done so pulled the shutters down. Only essential stores remained and we faced queues wherever we needed to go.
Schools closed on March 19 for all but the children of key workers, and on the same day the first death was confirmed.
That news prompted fears from Health Minister Robin Swann that 15,000 lives could be lost. Messages came thick and fast that we needed to protect the health service.
Then the names of those who had lost their lives started filtering through, day after day. And the fallout commenced.
We stayed at home, unless we were designated a 'key worker'. Those with children juggled work with home schooling. A-Level and GSCE students were left in the dark over grades and university places.
Shielding letters were sent to the most vulnerable, some 80,000 people, on how they were to go into isolation. March 20 was furlough day as the Government committed to support 80% of wages for employees in businesses that had to close.
By March 23 gatherings of more than two people were banned. It was essential trips only for everyone.
Thursday evening, March 26 saw the start of a weekly ritual as we clapped for carers. Communities were springing into life making scrubs and face masks for frontline workers. And on a bigger scale, companies were redeploying staff and taking on new workers to help the cause as fears over a lack of personal protective equipment (PPE) rose. Then, at 11pm on Saturday, March 28, lockdown officially commenced.
The shocking news just kept on coming.
By April 6 the nation learned that Prime Minister Boris Johnson was in intensive care, having contracted the virus. Urgent warnings were issued about travel over Easter.
On April 13 it was announced 26 had died in the space of two days as the crisis reached its peak here, and the fears over care homes started to be realised. The frontline of the battle shifted to nursing homes.
Through it all the daily number of deaths mounted into the hundreds and families couldn't fulfil the basic, taken-for-granted right to mourn their dead.
But as the days passed and as we moved past 'the peak', chinks of light started to emerge. Cases fell; so, too, the grim tally of deaths.
Society, slowly, took its first steps on the road back to some kind of normality, whatever that will be in the foreseeable future.
Cemeteries reopened on April 25 after a public outcry, the first easing of restrictions.
Monday, May 18 saw garden centres reopen with the promise of more restrictions being lifted if the downward trend in cases of Covid-19 continued.
On May 26, for the first time since March 19, no deaths were recorded. Positive signs were emerging, further lockdown easements are now in force and life is edging back. Baby steps, we are told, as we all learn a new way of living.
Just 100 days ago we had no idea what furlough was, or the R rate, what PPE stood for, self-isolation and shielding aimed at flattening the curve of the virus. We all wanted to know if we were a 'key worker'. If not, we threw ourselves into Zoom meetings for work and to stay in contact with family and friends.
We have marvelled at Captain Tom Moore, raising over £30m for the NHS as he turned 100-years-old, and scorned Dominic Cummings, adviser to Boris Johnson, over his trip to Durham.
Most of us are still waiting for a haircut, but we can now go for a McDonald's. And while we sit in the queue we can wonder what world is starting to emerge.
But we still miss a good mass gathering, particularly with family and friends. If we follow the science as we're told, those days are getting closer.