Columns

Christopher Gobler. Photo by Conor Harrigan

By Daniel Dunaief

When they can’t stand the heat, bay scallops can’t get out of the proverbial kitchen.

A key commercial shellfish with landings data putting them in the top five fisheries in New York, particularly in the Peconic Bay, bay scallops populations have declined precipitously during a combination of warmer waters and low oxygen.

In a study published in the journal Global Change Biology, Christopher Gobler, Stony Brook University Endowed Chair of Coastal Ecology and Conservation and Stephen Tomasetti, a former Stony Brook graduate student, along with several other researchers, showed through lab and field experiments as well as remote sensing and long-term monitoring data analysis how these environmental changes threaten the survival of bay scallops.

Stephen Tomasetti. Photo by Nancy L. Ford/ Hamilton College

Bay scallops are “quite sensitive to different stressors in the environment,” said Tomasetti, who completed his PhD last spring and is currently Visiting Assistant Professor of Environmental Studies at Hamilton College in Clinton, New York. Of the regional shellfish, bay scallops are the most sensitive to environmental stress.

Indeed, since 2019, bay scallops have declined by between 95 and 99 percent amid overall warming temperatures and extended heat waves. These declines have led to the declaration of a federal fishery disaster in the Empire State.

Tomasetti used satellite data to characterize daily summer temperatures from 2003 to 2020, which showed significant warming across most of the bay scallop range from New York to Cape Cod, Massachusetts. He monitored four sites with sensors in the water in addition to satellite data during a field deployment with scallops.

At the warmest site, which was in Flanders Bay, New York, the temperature was above the 90th percentile of its long term average during an eight-day period that overlapped with the scallop deployment. The bay scallops in Flanders Bay were “all dead by the end of the heat wave event,” Tomasetti said.

At the same time, low levels of oxygen hurt the bay scallops which, like numerous other shellfish, feed on phytoplankton. Oxygen levels are declining in some of these bays as nitrogen from fertilizers and septic systems enter these waterways. High nitrogen levels encourage the growth of algae. When the algae die, they decay, which uses up oxygen and releases carbon dioxide into the water.

Field and lab studies

In the field, Tomasetti measured the heartbeat of bay scallops in East Harbor, Massachusetts by putting optical infrared sensors on them that took heartbeat readings every 15 minutes for a month.

Stephen Tomasetti conducts field work in East Harbor during the summer of 2020.

When the average daily temperature increased, their average heart rate climbed, which the scientists used as a proxy for their respiration rate. A higher respiration rate meant that the scallop was expending energy more rapidly, potentially leading to reductions of energy reserves.

Additionally, Tomasetti measured how quickly the scallops fed on algae in the lab under warm temperatures and low oxygen.  These conditions caused the scallops to stop feeding or to feed slowly. Tomasetti interpreted this as a sign that they were waiting out the stress.

In the lab, bay scallops in the same conditions as the bays from Long Island to Massachusetts had the same reactions.

While a collection of fish and invertebrates feed on bay scallops, the effect of their die off on the food web wasn’t likely severe.

“I think there are other prey items that are likely redundant with scallops that cushion the impact,” Gobler explained in an email.

Solutions

Stephen Tomasetti with his wife Kate Rubenstein in East Harbor during the summer of 2020.

As for solutions, global warming, while an important effort for countries across the planet, requires coordination, cooperation and compliance to reduce greenhouse gases and lower the world’s carbon footprint.

On a more local and immediate scale, people on Long Island can help with the health of the local ecosystem and the shellfish population by reducing and controlling the chemicals that run off into local waters.

Waste management practices that limit nutrients are “super helpful,” Tomasetti said. “Supporting restoration (like the clam sanctuaries across Long Island that are increasing the filtration capacities of bays) is good.”

Gobler is encouraged by county, state and federal official responses to problems such as the decline in bay scallops, including the declaration of a federal disaster.

Long Island experience

A graduate student at Stony Brook for five years, Tomasetti was pleasantly surprised with the environment.

He had lived in New York City, where he taught high school biology for five years, before starting his PhD.

His perception was that Long Island was “a giant suburb” of New York. That perspective changed when he moved to Riverhead and enjoyed the pine forest, among other natural resources.

He and his wife Kate Rubenstein, whom he met while teaching, enjoyed sitting in their backyard and watching wild turkeys walking through their property, while deer grazed on their plant life.

Initially interested in literature at the University of Central Florida, Tomasetti took a biology course that was a prerequisite for another class he wanted to take. After completing these two biology classes, he changed his college and career plans.

Teaching high school brought him into contact with researchers, where he saw science in action and decided to contribute to the field.

At Hamilton College, Tomasetti has started teaching and is putting together his research plan, which will likely involve examining trends in water quality and temperature. He will move to the University of Maryland Eastern Shore in Princess Anne, MD this fall, where he will be an assistant professor in coastal environmental science.

As for his work with bay scallops and other shellfish on Long Island, Tomasetti looked at the dynamics of coastal systems and impacts of extreme events on economically important shellfish in the area.

Tomasetti is not just a scientist; he is also a consumer of shellfish.  His favorite is sea scallops, which he eats a host of ways, although he’s particularly fond of the pan seared option.

Striped Skunk. Photo by Dan Dzuirisn/Wikimedia Commons

By John L. Turner

John Turner

Although the hike was twenty-four years ago, I remember the experience as if it had happened last week. 

I was heading west along an old asphalt road, broken up by time and weather and flanked on both sides by an interwoven  fabric of dwarf pines and scrub oaks, vegetation typical to the globally rare Dwarf Pine Plains of Westhampton. Ahead and to my left I suddenly noticed several birds making a commotion. A pair of brown thrashers and a rufous-sided towhee were flitting up and down around a large clump of scrub oak, a clear signal that something had them agitated.  My interest piqued, I went to investigate. 

Coming around a rounded clump of scrub oak I saw the target of their concern — a striped skunk ten to twelve feet away, actively feeding on what I believe was a hatch of flying termites which formed a gauzy cloud above the skunk. (Several years earlier an intense wildfire roared through this area killing even the fire resistant scrub oaks — I surmised the termites were feeding on the decaying wood of the large, somewhat exposed rootstocks.) 

So excited was I by this first live sighting of a skunk on Long Island that I lost my common sense and got closer than I should have, trying to get a better idea of what it was eating. That I crossed the line became immediately clear when the skunk turned its back to me and stomped the ground with its front feet — a telltale sign a skunk is agitated and will likely spray. Obviously not wishing for this odoriferous outcome, I quickly (and comically) turned around and ran thirty or more feet, leaping over and around blueberry and huckleberry bushes and fallen logs to gain a safe distance, desperately hoping to avoid getting sprayed as I dashed away.  My hope became reality as the skunk didn’t spray.  

Several years later, this time in the southeast sector of the Dwarf Pine Plains, I had my second sighting of a skunk. It was early evening and I was with a friend birding a bit before nightfall at which time we were going to listen for whip-poor-wills.  We headed east on a wide sandy trail when a striped skunk suddenly broke out of the dwarf pines  and started to waddle toward us. It came within 25-30 feet of us before nonchalantly breaking back into the thicket.

The most recent (and shortest) sighting of a skunk occurred in October of 2021.  Driving west on Sound Avenue around dusk an animal ambled across the road about a mile west of Briermere Farms (famous for its pies). This sighting led me to think about the first several experiences I had with striped skunks on Long Island — individuals that unlike the experience above, unfortunately all involved roadkills and all in the Pine Barrens — along County Routes 111 in Manorville, 51 in western Southampton, and 94 (Nugent Drive) in Calverton.      

All of the sightings were exciting to me as they indicated that this distinctive mammal was still part of Long Island’s fauna and that it hadn’t disappeared. For several decades before naturalists weren’t sure of its status here as there were few if any reports of skunk sightings. Some feared it had been extirpated from Long Island. 

The striped skunk is a striking and beautiful animal, reminiscent of a negative photo image involving the stark contrast of black and white.  It has a black face with a white line running down the nose between the eyes.  The top of the head is white as if wearing a cap of cotton or snow with the white continuing down the back in two slightly separated racing stripes which sandwich a black back and rump. The bottom of the animal including its legs and feet is black. The rather fluffy tail is a mixture of black and white hairs. All in all, it is a most distinctive mammal!  

Three other skunk species occur in the United States ­— the spotted skunk, hog-nosed skunk, and hooded skunk. These are primarily western species.  Skunks were long grouped  with the “mustelid” mammals,  animals such as otters, badgers and weasels; they have since been broken out of this group and are now in their own mammalian family.  

Paul F. Connor, in his definitive 1971 New York State Museum publication “The Mammals of Long Island, New York,” had much to say about the species. He notes the skunk was once common on Long Island but became much less so in the twentieth century.  He ascribes two reasons for its decline. One is as roadkill victims in the ever increasing network of roads constructed on Long Island over the years (the home range of male skunks involves many hundreds of acres over which they wander in their search for food and mates) ensuring in most places here they will intersect a road.  The second reason for decline was due to poisoning from the widespread use on eastern Long Island of Paris Green, an arsenic based pesticide used to control the Colorado Potato beetle which skunks apparently ate with devastating results.  (Skunks readily eat insects — remember the episode above where I almost got sprayed?). 

During Connor’s survey he found only one skunk — in 1961, a road-killed animal near Sag Harbor, although he did find ample signs of skunk in the form of droppings, tracks, its tell-tale odor, even finding a den — in the pine barrens of Manorville. Connor notes several reports by other observers who saw skunks in the early 1960s in Montauk, Calverton, Napeague (Hither Hills State Park), and Yaphank, even as far west as the North Hills region of northwestern Nassau County.  

Connor mentions Daniel Denton’s earlier account (1670) of striped skunks on Long Island, stating they were once common and, surprisingly, were widely eaten by Indigenous people.  The famous naturalist Roy Latham backs this up by stating, in personal communication, to Connor: “the skunk was one of the more common mammals discovered in his Indian archeological excavations on eastern Long Island, found at most sites.” 

Remarkably, beaver and wolves, species long ago eradicated from Long Island, were also found at these sites. Latham also reported to Connor observing a pair of albino skunks in Montauk, in June of 1928. 

It is clear the striped skunk is hanging on here and, in fact, appears to be slowly rebounding. According to a Dec. 12, 2022, Newsday article written by Joan Gralla, recent skunk sightings have occurred in Smithtown, Commack, and Northport and a colleague, Dave Taft, recently mentioned to me in a phone conversation of a road-kill skunk he saw on the shoulder of the Cross Island Expressway in Queens. Tim Green, a manager in the Environmental Protection Division at Brookhaven National Laboratory, reports that skunks are “fairly common but low numbers” at the property and recently saw a road-killed skunk on Middle Country Road in Calverton.   

The acquisition of so much parkland, and thus wildlife habitat, throughout Long Island — especially the preservation of tens of thousands of contiguous acres of Pine Barrens throughout central Suffolk County — gives reason for optimism that Pepe Le Pew will long remain a distinctive and unique component of Long Island’s fauna.

The Seatuck Environmental Association is interested in better understanding the presence and distribution of striped skunk and other mammals native to Long Island. To this end, Seatuck has launched a 2022 version of Paul Connor’s seminal 1971 report through its Long Island Mammal Survey and you can contribute to it as a “Citizen Scientist.”  This initiative will involve the use of trail cams to detect mammals and experts will utilize live traps to confirm the presence of small mammal species like flying squirrels, shrews, moles, and mice. If you wish to contribute sightings you can do this through the iNaturalist website. 

An informative program entitled “Terrestrial Mammals of Long Island,” given by Mike Bottini as part of Seatuck’s Community Science Webinar series, is available at https://seatuck.org/community-science-webinars/.  Mike is a wildlife biologist at Seatuck who you may know through his important work in tracking the recovery of river otters on Long Island (a future “Nature Matters” column!) 

I hope you see a skunk during one of your hikes or journeys in the wilds of Long Island. If you do, just remember, unlike me, to keep your distance! 

A resident of Setauket, John Turner is conservation chair of the Four Harbors Audubon Society, author of “Exploring the Other Island: A Seasonal Nature Guide to Long Island” and president of Alula Birding & Natural History Tours.

Chewy. Photo courtesy of Smithtown Animal Shelter

MEET CHEWY!

This week’s featured shelter pet is 3 1/2-year-old Chewy,  a red/brown Lab/Sharpei/Pit Mix  up for adoption at the Smithtown Animal Shelter.

Chewy and his siblings lost their dad unexpectedly when he passed away. Don’t let his concerned look fool you; this handsome boy is fun loving and likes all people. He did live with several other dogs, though he does not like when other dogs come up to his kennel. 

Chewy had some allergy issues when he arrived that have since cleared up but may resurface as seasons change. He seems to have gentle leash manners, loves belly rubs, has a goofy personality and loves to roll on his back.

If you would like to meet Chewy, please call ahead to schedule an hour to properly interact with him in a domestic setting.

The Smithtown Animal & Adoption Shelter is located at 410 Middle Country Road, Smithtown. Visitor hours are currently Monday to Saturday from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. (Sundays and Wednesday evenings by appointment only). For  more information, call 631-360-7575 or visit www.townofsmithtownanimalshelter.com.

Photo by Michael Hall

A GLACIAL GIFT

Michael Hall of Port Jefferson snapped this photo of Conscience Bay in Setauket with his iPhone 12 on Feb. 1. He writes, “My wife Christina and I were walking in the northern, wooded section of Frank Melville Memorial Park on this cool winter day. The tide was so low we were able to walk into the tidal grasses. The layered colors of this erratic boulder caught my eye.”

Send your Photo of the Week to [email protected]

Bacon Banana Bread

By Heidi Sutton

There are few things quite as comforting as walking into the house and smelling a freshly baked loaf of banana bread. Whether you eat it for dessert, breakfast or a snack, banana bread (or muffins) is the best way to use up overripe bananas. 

In honor of National Banana Bread Day — February 23 — a day that celebrates a perfect pairing of fruit plus bread, here is a tried and true family recipe for Raisin Nut Banana Bread, or if you love bacon, a recipe for Bacon Banana Bread which combines two morning meal classics in one easy-to-enjoy bite. 

Raisin Nut Banana Bread 

Raisin Nut Banana Bread

YIELD: Makes one loaf

INGREDIENTS:

1 1/2 cups flour

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup raisins

1/2 cup walnuts or pecans

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter

1/2 cup sugar

2  eggs

1 cup mashed ripe bananas

2 tablespoons lemon juice

1 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

DIRECTIONS:

Preheat oven to 350 F. Butter 9-by-5-inch metal loaf pan. Mix first four ingredients in a medium bowl. Combine raisins and nuts and 1 tablespoon flour in a separate bowl. In a large bowl, beat butter until creamy; add sugar and eggs. Beat in bananas, lemon juice and vanilla extract. Beat in flour mixture, stir in raisins and nuts. Pour into loaf pan. Bake until tester comes out clean, about 60 minutes. Cool in pan 10 minutes and then turn onto wire rack to cool completely. Serve with butter.

Bacon Banana Bread

Bacon Banana Bread

YIELD: Makes one loaf

INGREDIENTS:

Nonstick cooking spray

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour, divided

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 cup sugar

3 medium bananas, mashed

1/2 cup canola oil

2 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

8 slices bacon or turkey bacon, cooked and cut into 1/4-1/2-inch pieces

DIRECTIONS:

Preheat oven to 325 F. Lightly grease 9-by-5-inch loaf pan with nonstick cooking spray. In large bowl, combine 1 cup flour, baking soda, baking powder and sugar. In separate bowl, combine mashed bananas, canola oil, eggs and vanilla extract. Add banana mixture to dry ingredients, stirring until just combined. In small bowl, toss bacon and remaining flour until bacon is lightly coated. Fold flour-coated bacon into batter. Pour batter into prepared loaf pan. Bake 70-80 minutes, or until toothpick comes out clean. Cool in pan 20 minutes before inverting bread onto wire rack to cool completely.

See video for Bacon Banana Bread here.

 

METRO photo

Whether or not school districts should hire armed guards is complex, requiring thoughtful consideration from parents, students, community members, educators, school administrators and elected officials.

But as we work through the intricacies of this sensitive and often contentious issue, a related matter is worthy of our attention: How can we appropriately cover mass shootings when these tragic events arise?

The Gun Violence Archive defines a mass shooting as an incident in which four or more people are injured or killed. Unfortunately, mass shootings are commonplace in this country. Already in 2023, there have been more mass shootings than days in the year. As a nation, we have failed to address this critical policy concern. 

When one of these all-too-familiar violent events occurs, the press often too hastily reports on it. Helicopters circle above the crime scene as field reporters rush to the periphery, searching for immediate information. 

A tragedy soon becomes a spectacle. Within days — sometimes just hours — the suspect’s name is revealed to the public. Then the shooter’s image is flashed incessantly on every newsreel and in every major newspaper in America. As the media goes to work uncovering the personal details of the shooter’s life, a depraved human being is made into a national celebrity.

And this phenomenon is not unique to the press. Hollywood capitalizes on violence; the more graphic a film’s depictions, the more revenue it will generate. Violence sells in this country, whether in motion pictures, music, video games, digital media or newsprint. And the ubiquity of these images within American popular culture has the natural effect of normalizing violent behavior nationwide.

Here at TBR News Media, we reject this dynamic entirely. Mass violence in America should not be accepted as mainstream nor should it be sensationalized or embellished. With a medium that enables us to disperse information widely both in print and on the web, we are responsible for using our platform appropriately.

Research on mass shooters indicates they are often motivated by perceived isolation or social rejection. Some commit an atrocity to achieve a mark on the world, since even playing the villain can be preferable to obscurity.

As journalists, we must deny violent offenders precisely the attention and fame they so crave. We legitimize acts of violence when we publish names or run headshots of mass shooters. By lending our platform to the least deserving, we encourage copycat offenders.

It is time that we, the members of the press and the distributors of information, end the dramatization and glorification of mass violence in America. It is time to substitute sensationalism with rigid, objective reporting when violence inevitably ensues.

This same standard applies to digital media. In this century, so much of the information available to us is circulated online. For this reason, Big Tech has a similar obligation to monitor its content and halt the spread of personal details regarding mass shooters.

While restraining our coverage is necessary, mass violence deserves our close attention. Still, we must focus on the issues: Should we hire armed guards in and around schools? How do we keep guns out of the hands of potentially violent offenders? How can we expand access to mental health services, so fewer people resort to mass violence? And more.

The focus should be policy driven and victim centric. We should create awareness of the problem while working to identify solutions. But we must not say their names or run their headshots.

By covering shootings appropriately, we can do our part to curb the spread of mass violence. By applying these methods consistently, journalists can work to change the culture, save lives and make a positive difference for the nation and humanity.

METRO photo

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

Long ago, back when my son was shorter than I, and when he listened to more of what I said, I was driving him and his teammate back from a baseball game that was more than an hour away from our house.

Those were the days when such long rides were part of our weekend routine, as we packed athletic gear, food, paper towels and flip-flops into the car to enable our children to compete against other children from distant towns or neighboring states, while also taking off their cleats and running into a deli to use the bathroom.

I don’t recall the details of the game because, even then, my son played in so many of them that the entire montage of memories blurs into a collection of highs, lows and everything in between.

Halfway home, we were the first car to stop at a red light. When another car pulled up next to us, we recognized the father of one of my son’s teammates.

Looking straight ahead, the father was screaming at the top of his lungs. My son and his teammate, who usually filled the car with nonstop commentary about the game, school, weekend plans and anything else that came to mind, were stunned into silence.

The three of us shifted our heads and saw his son sitting in the front seat with his head down, absorbing the ongoing verbal blows from his father, who had started gesticulating and was so frustrated that he spit on the windshield as he shouted.

During the entire red light, the father excoriated his son. As we drove away, my son’s teammate shared his memories of the game, pointing out that the boy in the other car had made a key error and struck out late in a close game.

METRO photo

After our next game, my son and I got in the car, and I had a chance to look at us more closely in the metaphorical mirror.

No, I wasn’t screaming at him. No, I didn’t spit on the window. The pattern I noticed, however, was one in which my son — when he was alone with me — focused only on the things that went wrong. He lamented everything he did wrong or didn’t do right. Sometimes, I recalled, I piled on, telling him how he could or should have done something differently.

As I tried to get a few words in after that game, he cut me off. He continued to criticize his performance until he was too exhausted to speak, at which point he urged me to talk.

I didn’t want to review the game. I wanted to discuss our interactions.

After considerable back and forth, I set new ground rules not for coach/player interactions, but for father/son discussions, particularly as they pertained to sports.

I never wanted to discuss whatever he thought went wrong in a game first. I wanted to begin with everything he did well. That could include positioning, fouling off a tough pitch, supporting his teammates, calling for a ball — even one that he dropped — and having a long at bat.

Then, we discussed what could have gone better. He threw the ball to the right base, but the throw was too low. He was fooled on a high pitch at the end of an at bat.

The first game after our discussion, he started off by criticizing himself. But then, something remarkable happened: he remembered our last discussion, and we started with everything he did well. Those first few moments built a positive foundation around which to start making improvements.

In future games, he started to focus on ways to perform well, even after he had struck out or had made a mistake. Instead of focusing on the ways he might have let himself or the team down, he wanted the opportunity to help.

TBR News Media publisher Leah Dunaief meeting the 39th U.S. president, Jimmy Carter, at the White House in 1978. Photo from Leah Dunaief

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

This President’s Day saw two presidents much in the news, Joe Biden for his clandestine trip to Kyiv, and our 39th president, Jimmy Carter, for entering hospice care. Carter, who at 98 years old is the oldest former chief executive of the United States, signaled the end of his repeated hospital stays.

I had the honor of being invited to an out-of-town press conference at the White House during President Carter’s one term, and of course, the memory will always remain with me. It was my first of several such invitations, and I smile when I compare my Carter and subsequent Ronald Reagan visits. 

The year was 1978, the country was recovering slowly from severe stagflation, and everyone was watching their expenditures. Hence, it was not surprising that when lunch came in the middle of the event, it consisted of a boxed meal that we balanced on our laps in the Oval Office. In the box were two half sandwiches, one of cheese, the other of tuna salad. There was also a hard-boiled egg, accompanied by a small salt packet, an apple and a cookie. I confess to such high excitement that I don’t remember how the food tasted, just that I held the egg in one hand and sprinkled salt on it with the other. I do recall thinking then that I was experiencing one of the most amazing moments of my life at the same time that I was doing this most mundane action of salting my egg.

Carter talked about the economy, suggesting an optimistic view for the coming year, among other issues, and then we got up, formed a single line and moved toward him to shake hands for perhaps a three-second intro and photograph we could all carry back with us for the front page of our newspapers. I was toward the back of the line, and the photographer stood to the side, snapping away, as I drew closer to the most powerful man in the world. 

I tried hard to come up with something more to say than my name and where I was from. Then I remembered. His sister, Ruth Carter Stapleton, had recently visited Stony Brook to speak about her Baptist evangelism, and rather than telling him my name, I mentioned covering that.

“Isn’t Ruth wonderful!” Carter exclaimed in his soft drawl as his Caribbean blue eyes widened with pleasure. He then proceeded to talk about her for at least two full minutes, how proud of her he was, as I noted that he was not much taller than I and that his hands were rough.

My visit, a couple of years later, to the Reagan White House for a similar event included a sit-down luncheon of lightly breaded veal served on French china and accompanied by a smooth red wine from France. And Reagan, much taller than I, told me as he shook my hand that he liked my red dress.

Josephine Eichner celebrates her 90th birthday at the Rose Caracappa Senior Center. Photo by Stephanie Giunta

By Stephanie Giunta

I was invited to join my grandmother,  Josephine Eichner, at her Seniors Club at Rose Caracappa Senior Center in Mount Sinai on February 7, her 90th birthday. I am 32 and got laid off a few months ago, and although I lacked the eligibility due to my age, I attended as an honorary guest. After hearing about the Tuesday club for 20+ years, I was grateful to have the free time to attend, albeit plagued with the nagging reason as to why I was available.

Josephine Eichner wearing her birthday tiara. Photo by Stephanie Giunta

I held her hand as we walked up the ramp into the building, kneeing the automatic handicap button to open the door.  I walked into a sea full of people, whose wrinkles told the stories of their lives. They scattered about prepping the coffee stations, collecting dollars for the 50/50 raffle, and decorating the tables. Our table, #2, was adorned with a vase of flowers and balloons in honor of Grandma’s big day. My first impression: feeling so touched that her friends had thought of her. 

Amused is putting it lightly. I was more so in awe. These men and women had made it. They had long marriages, bore children, and had grand and even great grandchildren.  They survived successes, failures, peaks, and valleys. They frequented doctor’s offices, and had battled health problems. They kissed their friends and spouses goodbye as they were given eternal life. They had survived all of their worst days to date, and yet here they were — still living.

When the meeting started and they sang “God Bless America,” I could have fallen off of my chair if I was sitting down. It brought tears to my eyes, and I was riddled with such pure joy and admiration. “Cute” isn’t the right word to describe it, since many refer to anything an older person does as “cute.” I think it was more of a genuine appreciation of these people, and knowing they knew what was important: camaraderie, love of self, and love of country. Appreciation for the small, yet impactful things in life. I can’t quite put the feeling into words, but it was something that struck me, and I’ll never forget it.

Josephine Eichner with her granddaughter and guest columnist Stephanie Giunta at the event. Photo by Stephanie Giunta

I got to meet Liz, the woman whose chain emails I have been receiving for decades.  I always opened them up because I didn’t want bad luck for 10 years. Sharon, who was lovingly referred to as “Grumpy” because she’s always so happy. She makes cookies for my daughter, although we had never met. Marie and Bob, who I’ve heard stories about for quite some time. They used to accompany my grandparents on double dates to The Heritage Diner. And Jutta. She doesn’t know it, but her name has been used quite a bit in some of our family’s games.

They walked a little slower, but laughed a little louder. Some were nervous that there weren’t enough slices of cake to go around.  Others complained that tea service wasn’t put out. Me — I just sat in silence at points and soaked it all in. I found it fascinating that they were worried about tea and cake, something so simplistic, whereas I was worried about the fate of my career. We were just in completely different phases of life and it was refreshing to gain a contrasting perspective.

The most rewarding part of the day was seeing my grandmother in action. It is truly beautiful to see someone you deeply admire in a social setting, when you’ve never really witnessed it outside of family functions. She was a shining light who worked the room. Conversations were filled with “Happy birthdays” and “You’re not 90!s” and just simply checking in on each other. Her snowy hair and pink lips bounced from table to table, bearing hugs and cashing in on inside jokes. The woman is 57 years my senior and I think she has a better social life than I do!

And as we capped out the day with BINGO, among covert mumblings about health insurance, next week’s entertainment, and the weather, I was so grateful to be where I was — spending the day with one of the people I love most in this world. Relishing on the roast beef sandwich on rye that she packed for me as if it were a NY strip steak; cutting into the Tiramisu that her friends presented her with; enjoying something so bubblegum, and feeling a bit sad when it had come to an end. I was also disappointed that Harriet won three games and I won zero.

I wish I could look at my life through a senior’s eyes and know that there are plenty of happy and sad times to come, but that they will make me who I am. That each laugh line and wrinkle I collect will signify a pit stop on my journey. That life is a gift and living is a privilege, and at the end of the day, being a good person is all that matters. Age is but a number and friendship has no timetable. 

And as I held Grandma’s hand on the way out, I whispered, “I can’t wait to come back.”

MEET JOHNNY KNOXVILLE AND PRINCETON!

This week’s featured shelter pets are Johnny Knoxville (orange tabby) and Princeton who recently arrived at the Smithtown Animal Shelter a few weeks apart as strays.

Estimated to be approximately 1 year old, Johnny is very shy  while 2-year-old Princeton is very affectionate with people. They were in side by side cages and seemed to want to be together; once in the same cage they became inseparable and have a created a little bromance. They may be adopted separately but it is preferred that they be adopted together.

If you would like to meet Johnny Knoxville and Princeton, please call ahead to schedule an hour to properly interact with them in a domestic setting.

The Smithtown Animal & Adoption Shelter is located at 410 Middle Country Road, Smithtown. Visitor hours are currently Monday to Saturday from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. (Sundays and Wednesday evenings by appointment only). 

For more information, call 631-360-7575 or visit www.townofsmithtownanimalshelter.com.