The Seiger team was preparing to begin a major project at the Angel Stadium of Anaheim in mid-March when California announced a statewide closure to combat the corona virus.

His appearance stopped, without limits.

The 42-year-old man is not a field guard or construction worker.

He made a sign.

Placentia resident company, Main Design, Is partnering with other companies to wrap bars and suites in baseball stadiums with letters in anticipation of Opening Day. And now the Angels will not leave anyone in the building.

For about a week, when other clients quickly cancel the project, work slows down. Seiger prepares for the worst.

But in the age-old maxim, the life-changing COVID-19 pandemic – and many of its demands on human behavior – come with a great need: for signs. And many of them.

Flags and awnings and yard signs sway in front of businesses where none existed before. Arrows placed six feet apart at the supermarket tell customers how to shop safely. A new neon light is shining. A-frame stands on the sidewalk and invites people to the tax office, medical clinics, car repair shops. Signs of persuading, warning, scolding, inviting – and offering words of hope.

All signs sing the same song to the public:

We are still standing. And we need you back.

An industry such as sign-making seems insignificant at first glance, an excessive trade for these uncertain times. But in mid-April, the U.S. Homeland Security and Infrastructure Security Agency consider it a “critical infrastructure” and allow printers and factories to remain open as long as they institutionalize plans to protect employees from the corona virus.

“Signs are the most visible invisible industry there,” said Lori Anderson, president and CEO of International Sign Assn., Based in Virginia, who lobbied government agencies for appointment. “You won’t see it until you need it. And right now, we need them.”

Michael Montaño’s family has run away Mitla Cafe in San Bernardino Route 66 for more than 80 years and frequently updates the Instagram page of the Mexican restaurant. But when Montaño realized that posh photographs of tacos and hard combo plates would not help fight the decline in customers that occurred after Governor Gavin Newsom banned eating in restaurants, he ordered several 3-by-9 vinyl banners and hung them. outside.

“Open to Orders intended,” they read. It was the first time Mitla had carried out such a campaign.

“We are pleased with the results,” said Montaño, 44. “We got a lot of ‘I’m not sure you’re open but I saw your banner’ over the phone. That is an additional boost, and more than ever, that might make a difference for us. “

But while sign makers like Seiger say they are called more than ever before, it is a mixed bag for their benefit.

A one-time job request – say, a church that wants believers to know the Mass is now broadcast online, or a factory announcing new social distance rules – has flooded David Haroonian’s inbox and telephone line, which has a Fastsign Franchise in West Hollywood.

“They ordered signs for COVID protection and shields, and restaurants put up banners that they were open to carry,” the 56-year-old said.

That is not enough.

Around this time of the year, Haroonian – who said revenues had fallen by at least 50% – said his company would serve large events such as bar mitzvahs and weddings.

“But it’s all gone,” he said. “Everything helps, but of course you want a bigger job – something worth $ 3,000 instead of $ 100.”

Luis Rotulos, who operates in Lawndale, experienced the same thing.

“I go to the store, and I will be there for six to seven hours, and my phone doesn’t even ring once” for a profitable order, said the 52-year-old man.

The development of smaller signs is a barometer of how bad the economy really is overall, he said. Business “gets it because they don’t have a business. They want to be noticed by people, because people are afraid to spend money. They are afraid of what will happen next. “

Three types of signs are installed outside the Impact Juice Bar in Orange. Small businesses are increasingly using outside signage to bring back customers.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Anderson, president International Entrance Sign, said the member has been successfully rotated to focus on current requests related to coronavirus, but must be ready to do it again.

“We have moved away from the initial panic about what we do to stay alive,” Anderson said. “Now we will go into a reboot. What will happen to your next customer?”

Another challenge that arises is the lack of material, which according to him has never been a problem before.

Rotulos said he used to be able to get vinyl for decals and banners in one day, but now it takes around one week. Also hard to find: alcohol-based liquids that allow digital markings to function, acrylic to make plastic sheets needed for overhead or backlit signs, and aluminum for sandwich boards.

“And all material prices also went up,” Rotulos said. “We cannot give that price to customers, so our profits fall even more.”

These smooth dance sign makers must now navigate like never before. At Gunther’s Supply Co., a men’s clothing boutique in Santa Ana, Akihiro Tsuneizumi slowly painted window advertisements that would eventually read “Curbside Pickup Online Order” and “Now Open” in white and orange.

Signs adorn several storefronts on this stretch of Main Street: for beauty salons, for pupusa, for Colombia fajas (girdles). In Gunther, other examples of Tsuneizumi’s craft stand inside and outside: large wooden clippings from the rockabilly parrot shop mascot. Paper prints that warn customers that a mask must be entered. A sign announcing “No Homie Discount.”

Owner Cesar Adame said he asked Tsuneizumi for an old school approach “because there are many of our customers in the community, and this allows them to see us here and we are not going anywhere.”

“Besides that,” the 29-year-old added, “we want to give Aki some work.”

Tsuneizumi, a 45-year-old native of Japan who had lived in the United States for two years, applied a soft brush to the vintage Playboy that served as his palette. Business has been “OK,” he said. The big problem is having to reduce costs, because the client is “hurt a lot now.”

“I’m lucky I can do different things,” he said, letting the paint dry before adding another layer. “But not the others. It just sucks around.”