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Leah Dunaief

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By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief,
Publisher

They weren’t really New Year’s resolutions but rather goals I set out for myself during the holidays when the office would be closed and we would be on a staycation. Did I meet them? Even though I was ill with a nasty upper respiratory infection for the entire time off, I did manage to accomplish the desired result.

What were they? I wanted to read two unusual books, recommended by The New York Times, over the 10 day period. And I did.

Now that may not sound like such a challenge to most people, but my reading, because of my job, is to keep up with the news. After all, I am a newspaper publisher and newspapers provide the first draft of history

So reading books, for me, is a luxury, and I’d like to tell you what two books I read because I found them engaging and would, in turn, readily recommend them. One was the beautifully written, “Horse,” by Pulitzer-prize winning author, Geraldine Brooks. I should tell you that my favorite reads are historical fiction and biographies. Those are, for me, effortless ways to learn history and any other subject with which the characters are involved.

“Horse” is indeed about a four-legged animal named Lexington, probably the most famous American racehorse in our history, who lived in the mid-1800s and about art. The horse is the literary device that ties the characters, who live in three different centuries, together. Some of them live before and after the Civil War, some in mid-century 1900s and the rest in the 2019. With that temporal range, Brooks touches on key themes: class, race, regional cultures, war, and the intelligence and loyalty of animals. The book, to a remarkable extent, is based on real people, as evidenced by the extensive research provided by the author in the coda called, “Lexington’s Historical Connections,” and it has a riveting plot.

Now I happen to love horses, always did from my earliest memories, when I was enchanted by the horses and riders on the trail in Central Park and begged to join them. I believe that’s a passion handed down through our genes. My mother’s father, I was told, was something of a horse whisperer, and my father was persuaded to take time from his work, something he almost never did, and accompany me one afternoon on a horseback ride through the park when I was about six years old. Since he had grown up on a farm, riding was familiar for him, although he did ask the stableman where we rented the horses if he could ride bareback rather than on what he called the “postage stamp” English saddle. The groom leading out the horses for us was stunned. Surprisingly he let us ride away toward the park.

But back to the book. It is not only the tale of the remarkable horse that engages the reader of this beautifully written novel. It is the rendering of the time and place in which each character lives, the deftly drawn personalities of the people who populate the stories, the challenges and tensions of their times, and ultimately how much and also how little times have changed.

And if you are an animal lover, the true heroes of the book are the animals.

The second book, which I happened to read first, was “The Wildes,” by Louis Bayard. While it doesn’t have the runaway narrative of “Horse,” it is more of a look back in time at the way Victorian England viewed homosexuality. The theme is developed through the lives of Oscar Wilde’s wife, Constance, and two sons. We meet them half a dozen years before his infamous trial in London, when they seem to be living a luxurious and loving pastoral existence. He is highly regarded as a famous author, playwright and witty companion, and she is involved in feminist causes.  Enter the aristocratic young poet, Lord Alfred Douglas, and the reality of life at that time begins to change the narrative. Ultimately it is Douglas’s provocative father, who causes Wilde to sue for libel, throwing his life open to titillating and legal inspection that brings ruin to the whole family.

The book is both witty for its clever dialogue and sad for all the shadows it reveals about the Wildes, society at the end of the 19th century, and what might have been in modern times.

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METRO photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief,
Publisher

Many people in their pajamas are now summoned to get dressed, leave their homes and work full-time in the office. The working-remotely imperative is being phased out as COVID-19 fades and the new year begins. No more pajamas in front of the computer, disguised with a proper work shirt as far as Zoom revealed. Remote work is becoming a unique chapter of the pandemic past.

Or is it?

Let me take you back to July 1965. I had just given birth to our first child in a Westchester County hospital, just north of NYC, and was in something of a new mother daze when my supervisor from work appeared at my bedside. I had been employed as a researcher in the editorial department at Time Inc until that past weekend, and the baby coming a little early surprised us all, apparently including my boss.

She was an attractive woman in her 40s, trim and almost six feet tall, and she supervised some 20 staffers. For a couple of seconds, I thought I might be imagining her, but she pulled up a chair, as if this visit was an ordinary occurrence, and we had the following conversation.

“Hello, Leah, congratulations to you and your husband.”

“Hello, Bea. What’s happening?”

“Oh, I thought I would drive up here to congratulate you properly, see the baby, and ask you if you would like to continue working.”

“What?”

She laughed. “I know you live in the Bronx, about 30 minutes from the office (which was in the Time-Life Building at 50th and Sixth Avenue) and right on the D line (subway). We could bring you the material and the books you need by messenger. Then, when you finish each batch of work, we could repeat the process. For questions, we could call you and discuss by phone. What do you think about that?”

I blinked. Was this really happening?

“I think I will be taking care of the baby,” I offered after a long pause.

“We thought about that. Mia (a staffer in the department) no longer needs her nanny, and she could  continue her work with your baby in your apartment. She is from Haiti and speaks little English, but I believe you speak French, yes?”

“A little.” I was now in a different daze.

“Then this could work. You will be able to stay at home with the baby and work comfortably in your apartment while the nanny takes care of your son from 10-6 (our business hours) in the next room. She will come Mondays through Fridays. She is very responsible. She has five sons of her own.”

Then she said those prescient words without knowing she was 60 years ahead of her time.

“You will be working remotely.”

And so it went. A few days after we brought our son home, the first batch of work arrived from the office via a cheerful messenger, and I was set up at a desk in the bedroom to continue my job. 

The nanny, Madame Bayard, also arrived and lovingly greeted and cared for our baby until I would appear. This unusual arrangement continued for almost two years. I would return to the office perhaps once a month for meetings and to touch base with my editor of the moment, but otherwise I did indeed work remotely, even from my parents’ bungalow in the Catskill Mountains the following summer. We gave Madame Bayard the time off, and while my mother cared for our son, I worked on a comfortable chaise in the shade of a tree, driving to the office only a couple of times in two months.

This idyllic arrangement ended when my husband finished his residency, and we moved to Texas, where he served at an Air Force base during the Vietnam War.

I finally left the employ of Time-Life. It was now too far for even a messenger to reach me. But today, my grandson and his wife both have satisfying jobs that call for working remotely.

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Photo by Andrea Piacquadio/Pexels

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief,
Publisher

A couple of my favorite restaurants will only accept payment in cash or check. My doctors’ offices will only take credit cards. Perhaps the next thing is that we’ll have to pay in beads, like the Europeans for Manhattan Island.

Those who only take credit cards explained to me that they are preventing robberies. They put up signs saying, “No cash” to dissuade potential thieves. And I suppose those who only take cash are refusing to share their revenue with the credit card companies. I can understand that, especially if the profit margin of the business is only a couple of percent.

But the swinging back and forth is taking its toll, especially on older consumers, who tend to use only cash and are hardest hit in a cashless situation.

“A Fight to Preserve the Value of Cash,” was an article in The New York Times by Paula Span this past Tuesday that addressed the subject.

“Some no-cash practices date to contagion fears after the outbreak of Covid; others are intended to discourage robberies,” explains the reporter. “But such policies are a disadvantage to several groups, including low-income people who don’t have bank accounts, people who have accounts but don’t qualify for credit or debit cards, the homeless, undocumented immigrants and older adults,” she goes on to say. 

Additionally, anyone can have a problem with electronic payments when it comes to paying, which can cause delay and frustration. Natural weather disasters can disrupt electricity and telecommunication networks that fail immediately disconnect a cashless society. Even international thieves can hack bank accounts on the internet. “With cash, a thief has to be within striking distance.”

Another disadvantage of credit cards is that consumers spend more when they are using them because it delays the “pain of paying” until the bill arrives at the end of the month.

And privacy concerns enter into the picture due to “middlemen facilitating digital transactions-credit card companies, banks, the tech giants behind mobile apps-(…) then sell consumers’ data.”

According to Pew Research, only 79 percent of people over 65 have a smartphone, which is often used in cashless systems, compared with 97 percent of those between 30-49. Those over 55 paid in cash 22 percent of the time last year, compared with 12 percent among younger groups, according to the Federal Reserve, as quoted by The NYT. 

And according to a federal survey, 85 percent used the internet for financial services in their 20s and 30s, but the percentage drops as the groups age. For people in their 60s, the number becomes 70 percent, for those in their 70s it is  64 percent, and in their 80s, it’s only about half.

Cash is so simple: no buttons, no passwords, no problems other than the possibility of counterfeit bills.

“Older adults are far more likely than younger ones to lose money to tech support fraud, lottery and sweepstakes swindles, and family impersonations”, according to the Federal Trade Commission and cited in The NYT. Losses to investment and romance cons continue to climb, too.

As a result of an experience I had some years ago, before plastic became so prevalent, I could personally attest to a cashless society working, at least for a few days. 

On my way out the door to my limo ride, I forgot my wallet. I realized half way to the airport and confessed to the driver. “No problem,” he said. “I take credit cards  Do you have one?” Fortunately I did. I then realized that I would depend solely on that card for all my expenses getting to, and from, and while I was at the convention. It was going to be an interesting experiment, I said to myself.

During those four days, I was able to manage quite well with only the card. The future for payments became clear to me.

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METRO photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief,
Publish:

This one just passed was my favorite weekend of the year: Thanksgiving. It started last Wednesday night, as all good weekends should. We, the Dunaief Clan, have managed to extend it into three, even four days. We deserve no less. Like many American families, our immediate members are stretched across the entire continent, from the California coast to Pennsylvania, and from below the Mason-Dixon Line and the Florida Peninsula to the Gulf of Mexico. They need that much time just to get to Grandma’s house and back.

What’s waiting for them when they arrive? Food! All kinds of favorite foods. And love. Lots of love that bridges three generations with mighty hugs. Why, it even takes a good part of that long weekend before all the members of the family finish hugging each other, at which point we sit down to eat. We get back up some hours later, only to regroup for the next meal. We know we are among the fortunate in that regard and give thanks.

Food means so many different things. There are the traditional historic dishes that symbolize the meal reputedly eaten by the Pilgrims. But we have added more to the basics. And each person has a favorite that tickles them when they look at the offerings on the laden table and know it was prepared especially for them. Food is love, and special foods carry that message.

It still amazes me to be surrounded by the many members of my tribe. Some 60 years ago, before I was married, there was just I. Then, three months later, there were the two of us, my husband and me. And then there were children and children-in law, and their children and now, their new daughter-in-law and my first granddaughter-in-law. Together we populate the dining room and fill the house with chatter and laughter.

One of the high points of the weekend follows dinner, when we are still sitting around the table, digesting sufficiently until we can have dessert, and we tell each other what we are most thankful for that occurred in the past year. In that way, I get to catch up on some of the events in my loved ones’ lives and they on mine.

Speaking of dessert, the pumpkin pies were an issue again this year. For almost all the Thanksgivings we have celebrated here, 55 to be exact, we have enjoyed the classic finale from The Good Steer. Their pies pleased all our taste buds, from my offspring to my parents, who would join us from NYC during those early years. Alas, the restaurant on Middle Country Road in Lake Grove is no more; the owners having closed the business. 

So, faced with this significant void, I have done some research and have come up with replacements over the last couple of years. We did a scientific taste test between the offerings I procured this year. I’ve had a number of friends offer suggestions, and I thank them kindly because they understand how important it is to find an alternative source. After all, no two differently made pumpkin pies taste the same. 

The result here hung in the balance until the celebrations ended. My reputation as the Best Thanksgiving Grandma, I am relieved to tell you, is secure. We found a satisfactory replacement. In fact, there was a partisan divide between the two choices, so we will have one of each next year. 

This year, we had a first to celebrate. My oldest grandson had asked the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with to marry him, and she accepted. The wedding was this past spring, and we welcome her enthusiastically into the tribe. I give thanks for the blessing of seeing our family continue to grow.

I hope all of you, Dear Readers, had a Happy Thanksgiving with the foods you enjoy and the people you love, whether they be relatives or close friends or perhaps those you recently met and with whom you have chosen to share this celebratory meal.

On this day, we give thanks for the special people in our lives.

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Pexels photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief,
Publisher

According to several articles in the media, including in The New York Times, the election of Donald Trump as President is viewed by many women as a setback to the efforts toward gender equality, and they are angry, even distraught.

Gloria Steinem, the feminist activist who is now 90, doesn’t see the defeat of Kamala Harris as a result of her gender. “We don’t know what’s in the heart of each woman” who voted for Mr. Trump, she is quoted in The Times as saying. She goes on to point out the huge gains that women have made over the last half century. 

“It is within my memory that it was not possible in many states to get a prescription for birth control unless you were married and had the written permission of your husband, and not possible to have an abortion without some access to an illegal network. Those are huge [advances].” 

Looking back to the 1960s and 1970s, few women were decision makers in government, boardrooms or families, according to The Times. “Women had trouble getting a driver’s license or passport or registering to vote, unless they took their husband’s last name. Marital rape was legal. Most could not open credit cards in their own names until the mid-1970s.”

The election has revealed a divide among women. Exit polls indicate that 45 percent of women voted for Trump, including far more white women than black women. For some of those female voters, that suggests ”liberation from feminism.” Others blame those women for  betraying the sisterhood by voting for a man who makes sexist and also racist remarks.

All agree. Womanhood in the United States has fractured. Or perhaps the idea that women stick together because of gender is a myth. There have always been women who argued against the right of women to vote and  legalization of abortion. Pop culture, personified by Beyoncé and Taylor Swift celebrating the advances of women, apparently does not translate to political culture. The “tradwives” movement on social media, advancing the return of women to submissive wives, has apparently picked up steam. 

Perhaps what we can all agree on is the right to choose and live a self-actualized life.

What some women have chosen is an interesting individual choice: to sideline men from their lives. 

The Times points out that there has been an explosion in the number of women that say they are deleting dating apps, taking vows of celibacy, identifying as “self-partnered,” writing divorce memoirs and expressing profound disillusionment with heterosexual marriage and “decentering men” to focus on self-improvement and platonic relationships.

South Korea’s 4B movement, which “encourages women to reject dating, marrying, having sex with and having children with men,” as explained in The Times, has attracted attention among women who didn’t vote for Trump. “Online women are exhorting one another to abandon men as self-protection; [to] buying a vibrator; or even a gun.”

“Disappointed by the defeat of another female nominee, some feel numb resignation, while others—particularly young women online—are channeling their disappointment into anger against men as a whole.”

Almost sounds like a movie plot, doesn’t it? Except, as Times’ reporter, Marie Solis, states, “Peering into the vast gulf between the political views of men and women, the latter group isn’t so sure it has much in common with the former.” That doesn’t make for a good society in which to live. One book on the subject: “The End of Men,” subtitled “And the Rise of Women” by Hanna Rosin.

Steinem offered a bit of advice as a coda. ‘Focus on equality in the workplace, and treat daughters the same as sons,” to which she added, “The lesson is less in the national and world atmosphere and more in the home and employment atmosphere in which we have some control. We shouldn’t give up the power we have.” 

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METRO photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief,
Publisher

This is an invitation for you, readers of our newspapers, viewers of our website, followers of us on social media and listeners to our podcast. We encourage you to send us nominations for our special edition, People of the Year.

Many of you know that we publish People of the Year, filled with the exploits of local “heroes,” who go the extra mile to make our communities the wonderful places they are, between Christmas and New Year.

These are people who live or work or in some way directly affect our lives here. They don’t just do their jobs well. They go far beyond what is expected of them, and in so doing, improve our lives.

We solicit these names from you because you know who they are, whether from the cohort of government workers to the unstinting volunteer on your block. By putting the spotlight on them and their unselfish efforts, we make their work a little easier.

Plus, no matter who they are, it feels good to be appreciated.

So think about who helps our villages and towns the most. They can be in any field: healthcare, the economy, elected officials, business people, the arts, science, civics, historical societies, service organizations, education, sports and more.

 And don’t tell them you told us. We like to surprise them when we publish their stories the last week in December.

Thank you & Happy Holidays!

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Pixabay photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief,
Publisher

The drive between my office and home has been treacherous for my tires over the past couple of years, with the potholes and broken stretches of blacktop causing them to whine in protest. I was taking all sorts of detours through adjoining neighborhoods to avoid them. 

So, imagine my relief when a transportation ground crew appeared a couple of weeks ago and proceeded to repair and repave the roads. The route is now smooth enough for roller skating.

This could have been a metaphor for the coming election.

After mounting anxiety among the populace and near hysteria about what voting would be like and what would lie ahead by the media, it is such a relief that nothing violent  happened. It was only an exercise in demonstrating the will of the governed.

Yes, half the population is keenly disappointed that its candidate did not win and make history, and the other half is ecstatic that its candidate did win and did make history. But an amazing calm has descended. 

Polls almost all across our nation were crowded but enabled orderly voting. There were a few bomb threats phoned in, largely attributed to Russian interference, which delayed our voting process in a minor way, but there were no scenes of perilous conflict. 

We Americans did what we are supposed to do during elections. We voted—in greater number than usual—then went about our usual business and awaited the results.

The only uptick in normal activity was in the stock market, which soared wildly at the prospect of calm and stability. There was no factual basis for any claims of chaos. And no one so far seems to be challenging the results.

We can let out our collective breath.

This election should not pass from sight without our plaudits for the poll workers. When I entered my polling place about 10:45 a.m. on Tuesday, I was greeted cordially, directed to the proper table to register, then to another for the ballot and given a short explanation on how to fill it out.

When I emerged, ballot in hand, from the booth, I was further directed to one of the voting machines, then I left with a receipt and a sticker some kind soul had supplied that read, “I voted.” As I left, I was thanked a couple of times for voting by poll workers. 

It occurred to me that we, the voters, should be thanking them. Despite the severe concerns expressed in the lead-up to the election about the safety issue for those workers, they showed up, graciously did their jobs, safely put in a long day, then returned to their homes. 

They supported the ultimate key for democracy to happen: the vote.

So thank you to the many men and women, all across America, and those in our individual polling places, for your help. And thanks to those who came to protect them.

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METRO photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief,
Publisher

Newspapers themselves made the news this week before the election. Both The Los Angeles Times and The Washington Post decided not to endorse either candidate for President of the United States. This is so unusual that it made the national news.

What are the reasons behind this remarkable decision?

I’ll tell you the reasons given by the papers, and I’ll tell you what the pundits are declaring. I may even share my own thoughts on the matter.

After almost 50 years of making presidential endorsements, The Washington Post declared they would not be doing so in this election, or any future presidential election, according to Will Lewis, the chief executive and publisher. “We are returning to our roots of not endorsing presidential candidates.” This was after the editorial board had already drafted an endorsement of Kamala Harris, according to The New York Times’ article of October 26. The decision appeared to have come from Post’s owner, billionaire Jeff Bezos, who also has lucrative business contracts with the government, including through Amazon and the aerospace company,  Blue Origin.

The decision drew criticism “from reporters, editors and readers, along with an unusual rebuke from the legendary Post journalists Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein,” according to The Times. The newspaper was accused of “cowardice with democracy as its casualty,” by Martin Baron, The Post’s former editor featured in the movie, “Spotlight,” dealing with systemic sexual child abuse by numerous priests.

The Post tried to explain. David Shipley, the newspaper’s opinion editor, said The Post was no longer going to tell people how to vote but rather “trusting readers to make up their own minds.” 

So far this year, “The Post has endorsed candidates in House and Senate races in Virginia and Maryland,” said The Times. The decision not to endorse a presidential candidate was “clearly a sign of pre-emptive favor currying” with Mr. Trump, according to Robert Kagan, a long time writer and editor at large of The Post. In a dissenting editorial, 18 Post opinion columnists signed their names to a column calling the decision not to endorse a “terrible mistake,” since the paper all along has been emphasizing  that Donald Trump is a threat to democracy.

The owner of The Los Angeles Times, billionaire Patrick Soon-Shiong, had also recently quashed presidential endorsements, again seemingly due to conflicts of interest.

The Times Beacon Record, before each Election Day, publishes a section with interviews of the candidates that take place in our offices with the editorial board. In our section, to be found elsewhere in the papers and on the web today, we also print endorsements. We are an independent news organization, favoring neither major political party. Hence our endorsements run the gamut, neither red nor blue, settling on our choice of the best possible candidates to represent us.

Why do we do this? 

It takes a great deal of time to catch up with the office-seekers, schedule their interviews,  preferably with each other, pose questions to them, write up their responses and decide on whom to vote for. And that is our role: to tell you finally, as a result of our proximity to them and their previous efforts, as well as their stated goals, that these are the ones we would vote into office. 

We are decidedly not trying to push you, our readers, into your choices. We have enough confidence in you to assume you can decide if given enough information, and our role is to do just that. We try to reflect the candidates’ positions with our interviews, tell you how they registered on us, then reveal how we would vote. The rest is up to you.

What we are adamant about is the responsibility each of us has to vote. People in distant lands fight and some even die for that privilege. Because we take it for granted, statistics show that many of us don’t bother following the candidates and voting for the best choices. When that happens, we get what we deserve: government we don’t want.

Please vote, and also vote on the two propositions at the back of the ballot. 

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MetroCreative Photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief,
Publisher

As much as I regret saying this and disappointing my enthusiastic friends, I don’t much care for Halloween. Yes, I admire the creativity that goes into the decorations, the costumes, the stories and the efforts to make great parties. I also like the candy. But there is an undercurrent of something uncontrollable about the holiday, almost as if it is a license that day to egg a garage or knock down a mailbox. The Trick-or-Treat slogan makes me uneasy.

Maybe this is the result of having had those minor but annoying experiences. How many of us, when the next day dawns, look around to see if there is any graffiti on our houses or flat tires on our cars?

I have dear friends who dress up in clever costumes and become those characters for a few hours. It’s fun for many of us, children and adults. My all time favorite was when my friend, John, came as a toilet bowl. And it actually flushed. I love to see small children running through the neighborhood as Batman or Spock, imaginations at play. They tightly clutch their bags of treasure, eyes wide with wonder at being handed treats by someone in the doorway of every house on the block. And it is a chance for costumed adults to play at being children again.

So I guess I have what are called “mixed feelings” about Halloween.

I am not alone in this. There are others who, in the extreme, actually fear the holiday. That fear has a medical term: samhainophobia. Here is the professional definition. “People with this specific phobia feel anxious when they think about or experience anything to do with Halloween. Many people with samhainophobia (sam-HI-noh-phobia) have gone through a past traumatic situation related to Halloween. Exposure therapy, cognitive behavioral therapy and hypnotherapy can help overcome samhainophobia…Such anxiety can be caused at the thought of Halloween parties, symbols such as ghosts and spiders and trick-or-treating.”

Symptoms, ranging from mild to extreme, can include dizziness, intense sweating, pale skin, panic attacks, rapid breathing and heart rate, strong feeling of terror, nausea and trembling or shaking. For children who are so triggered, avoiding the dark, not wanting to go to school on Halloween, even not wanting to sleep by themselves can be manifestations of this anxiety disorder.

Samhain comes from the Celtic festival first celebrated by the druids some 2000 years ago. The Celts lived primarily in what is now Ireland, the U.K. and northern France, and they believed that on October 31, the living mingled with the dead. That was the night before the Celtic New Year. The festival included large bonfires, animal sacrifices to please the dead, and costumes of animal skins and heads on the participants.

I did enjoy Halloween when I was in elementary school and growing up in an apartment building. My mother would let me put together some semblance of a costume, including a bath towel tied cape-like on my back, and I would run around the hallway, ringing door bells and yelling “Trick-or-Treat!” I still remember being amazed when residents who normally kept to themselves would open their doors, smile, and hand me candy or an apple. I knew nothing of Celts and druids, but I was thrilled by the power to awaken neighborly response and be rewarded for my efforts.

Some people, here in the suburbs, may put out scary monsters, faux graveyards, giant spiders crawling across their huge webs, and all manner of spooks on their front lawns. Box stores seem to make as much money at this time of the year as they do at Christmas. The 12 foot skeletons even come with eyes that light up menacingly and audio that episodically screams. While this is a demonstration of decorating artistry, perhaps it is our way of safely laughing at death.

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METROCREATIVE CONNCETION

By Leah Dunaief

Leah Dunaief,
Publisher

My college class is hosting a forum on friendship and how to define it. During this time, when loneliness seems to be a problem for many, what role should friendship play, especially in our later years?

I read someplace, not too long ago, that most people claim to have five or six good friends, and that is ideal, according to the professionals who study this subject. It made me think about how many good friends I have, and whether I have the requisite number for a happy life.

What makes people become friends?

Perhaps friends play a different role in one’s life at different stages. I tried to remember the friends I had in my earliest years. There was Evelyn in Second Grade. What attracted me to her was her ability to draw. I was enamored with The Lone Ranger at that point, read as many books by Fran Striker (who I later learned was Frances, a woman author) as I could find, and I asked Evelyn to draw scenes from the books for me. I would give her some particulars, and she would follow up and make drawings on looseleaf sheets of paper that illustrated the vignettes I would describe to her. And she did so quickly, as I talked, which was amazing.

Why did she do that for me? She was terrible in arithmetic, and I would do her homework for her, probably as quickly as she could draw. So we had a mutual attraction as a result of our individual skills. Also she lived down the block from my family’s apartment, and we would walk home together from school. So convenience and mutual needs played a part in encouraging friendship.

It all ended, of course, when the teacher realized I was doing her homework. It was innocent enough. I never meant to abort her learning and hope she caught on to numbers and what one could do with them.

I went to an all-girls junior high school that only one other classmate entered, and she was put into a different section, so I had no friends immediately. But I was attracted to a small group who came from the other side of town and seemed to have a lot of fun with each other.

They were sophisticated. In particular, they would slip out of school 15 minutes before the end of the last class, run down the stairs of the subway outside the school building and ride to the Broadway Theater District, where they would arrive just as the plays would break for intermission.

When the audience members would then walk back in, they would, too, and carefully find empty seats. In that way, they saw the second act of some of the most famous musicals of the 1950s. I wanted desperately to be part of that group, and somehow they accepted me. They were my junior high friends, and I still think of them fondly.

So common interests make for friendships.

In high school and college, my friends were a couple of classmates that I most admired. They brought different ideas to class and had the courage to speak about the subjects in an original way. There were others, too, who were enjoyable companions throughout those early years, and with whom I kept up until we each went our separate ways after we married and moved from New York. But I kept in touch with those original two I most respected. So respect is another factor in deep friendships.

As we had children, our friends most often were the parents of their friends, which was convenient. And we had friends from work. But then, our children grew up, left the nest, and we were again on our own, with the time to rediscover old friends who were witnesses to our earlier years and to make new ones.

Witnesses and shared experiences now make for strong glue in friendship. And mutual admiration, loyalty and empathy for all that has happened and is happening to us as we age, are powerful bonds among friends.

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