Not every kid loves change, but Brent Yamaato did. His father was an ambitious IBM executive in the 1970s and ’80s, when insiders joked that IBM stood for “I’ve been moved.”

When Leo and Meg Peters* walked into the bank, they were in distinctly different moods. The Peters were coming to Truist to talk with wealth advisor Ben Yannuzzi about selling their health care business. Leo was really excited about all the things he could do after the sale. Not on the list? Slowing down.

People start lining up outside of Mercy Care as early as 6 a.m. They’re hoping for help at one of the few walk-in health care spots in the clinic.

It was a two-Kleenex moment for Allan Tanenbaum. “One of the great things we have in life is memories,” he says, grabbing a tissue and reminiscing about his friend, Henry Louis Aaron.

“Is there anything you can do to help?” Jerry Siegel was on the phone with his bank. It was spring 2020, and COVID-19 was threatening his business and the health of his employees.

DaySha Gibson has always had an eye for better. Before she came to Truist, her career started to take shape when she worked in an office and noticed a clear physical divide.

When the coronavirus pandemic hit, it changed a lot of people’s perspectives—and gave opportunities to make a difference in new ways.