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Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. at the Civil Rights March In Washington D.C. in 1963.

During a march on Washington, D.C., back in August 1963, civil rights activist and minister the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. gave a speech that was heard around the world. 

“I have a dream,” he recited, “that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today.”

Now, nearly 54 years after his assassination in Memphis, Tennessee, that speech still has clout, and its message is still being spread, but unfortunately King’s children and granddaughter still do not see what he had envisioned so long ago. 

The murders of Black men and women including George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Elijah McClain and David McAtee — just to name a few — still continue some five decades after King’s plea for our country to stop its racism, bigotry and hate. 

How can we as a society still continue to judge, harass and kill people based solely on the color of their skin? Have we not learned?

This week would have been MLK’s 93rd birthday, and he would be ashamed of what is going on in our country.

When he died in 1968, Black people in America were fighting for their basic human rights. Now it’s 2022 and people of color are still fighting. Fortunately, they’re being joined by many others in the fight. 

While the summer of 2020 was one of civil unrest, protests, anger and tears, it was a summer which again started the conversation that enough is enough. 

In 2022, we as a society need to continue moving forward — not backward. 

MLK’s dream was for children, Black or white, to play happily and peacefully together. 

Let us start this new year with his dream in mind. Let us show respect for our neighbors and support causes of conscience. Let us remember the injustices and work to make sure they are not repeated.

We have the ability to succeed better as a society but what it will take is an awareness of injustice and the resolve to root it out.

Let us continue to keep Dr. King’s dream alive.  

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Photo from SBU

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

Isaiah Nengo recalled a day years ago when he was working in a field station in Kenya, searching for fossils.

A man who had a tremendous influence on his life was on the way to alter his horizons yet again, although this time the visit would have nothing to do with science.

Richard Leakey, the late founder of the Turkana Basin Institute (TBI) and a famed paleoanthropologist and conservationist, was bringing food from his home on the coast of Kenya in Lamu to the field station.

Leakey “prepared this lobster meal,” said Nengo, who is native of Nairobi, Kenya, and is currently associate director of TBI. “It was my first seafood meal. It was fantastic. I was like, ‘I’m sitting almost 600 miles from the ocean, it’s hot as hell and I’m eating lobster.’ That always stuck in my mind.”

Leakey, who died on Jan. 2 (see a tribute to the Stony Brook legend in this week’s Arts & Lifestyles page B12), left behind a lasting scientific legacy that filled science textbooks of people around the world, while he left an enduring food legacy that filled the stomachs of family, friends, coworkers and colleagues.

People fortunate enough to dine with him shared tales of Leakey’s culinary prowess and refined tastes.

Sonia Harmand, associate professor in the Anthropology Department at Stony Brook, took a long flight with Leakey to Kenya. Leakey had a salmon meal on the plane that didn’t meet his standards.

“He called the staff, and even the pilot came by to say hi because everybody knows about him,” Harmand said. Amid the introductions, he expressed his displeasure with the salmon.

When he returned to Kenya, he wrote to the airline and complained about the food.

As a host, Leakey went out of his way to make sure all of his guests enjoyed the food he purchased, prepared and served.

Harmand said her daughter Scarlett, who will turn nine in February, enjoyed eating at Leakey’s house because he prepared mussels and oysters he knew appealed to her.

“Every time you had a meal with him, he kept on asking if you liked it,” Harmand said.

Harmand also appreciated the unexpected gifts of incongruous foods at TBI. One day, Leakey arrived with ice cream and fresh strawberries.

“We had to eat it quickly,” she recalled with a laugh.

Another long time friend and colleague, Lawrence Martin, the director of TBI, said Leakey had a fondness for some Long Island foods. He particularly enjoyed ducks, as well as oysters and mussels from Long Island’s waterways.

“He said mussels were never as good in the warm water as they were in Stony Brook,” Martin said.

When he first got to know Leakey, Martin said Leakey cooked all the meals they shared, whether they were in Stony Brook or Kenya.

Martin called Leakey a “great chef” and said his late colleague “loved good food and loved going food shopping.”

While Leakey shared important information with former Stony Brook President Shirley Kenny, he also dined on memorable meals.

When they were on their own on Long Island without their spouses, Kenny invited Leakey over to her home for a meal.

After the dinner, he thanked her and promised he would return, providing she allowed him to do the cooking.

Sharing food with Leakey often meant benefiting from his storytelling prowess and his sense of humor.

Kenny and her family went on a safari with Jim and Marilyn Simons, co-founders of the Simons Foundation and supporters of science throughout Long Island.

“At the end of the day, we would sit in a circle and have drinks and [Leakey] would regale us with stories that were absolutely wonderful,” Kenny said. “You can’t even imagine how they made these [incredible] meals when there’s nothing out there to do it with.”

With hyenas howling at night and hot showers created with water heated by the sun during the day, the entire experience was “so exotic and so elegant at the same time,” Kenny added.

Harmand said Leakey didn’t cook with the goal of winning over people, but, rather, to share a connection.

“I don’t think he needed to impress anyone,” Harmand said. “He wanted to please you through food.”

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Stock photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

There has been a lot in the news recently about COVID testing. We can request at-home test kits, and the government promises to send them to us through the mail. Also, we can shortly obtain N95 masks, the most efficient at filtering out microbes from the air, from pharmacies and other health centers. Those should be available to us by the end of next week.

Here is a new angle for consideration. Testing thus far has focused on using swabs inserted up the nose. But there is, perhaps, a more comfortable and more accurate possibility: spitting into a tube. “The virus shows up first in your mouth and throat,” according to Dr. Donald Milton, an expert on respiratory viruses at the University of Maryland who was quoted by The New York Times last Saturday. This means that testing saliva or swabbing the inside of the mouth could help identify people who are infected days earlier, some research suggests. 

Here are some findings from Dr. Milton and his associates. Three days before symptoms appear and for two days after, “saliva samples contained about three times as much virus nasal samples and were 12 times as likely to produce a positive P.C.R. (gold standard) result. After that, however, more virus began accumulating in the nose …” The Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has now authorized numerous saliva-based PCR tests which work well for screening students at schools.

“Saliva really has turned out to be a valuable specimen type and one that has increasingly been advocated as a primary testing sample,” said Dr. Glen Hansen, of the clinical microbiology and molecular diagnostics laboratory at the Hennepin County Medical Center in Minnesota. 

Since Omicron “appears to replicate more quickly in the upper respiratory tract and have a shorter incubation period than earlier variants,” if attention to the mouth and throat would be able to detect the virus earlier it would be particularly valuable, according to Emily Anthes, the NYT reporter.

Further, researchers in South Africa, where Omicron was first identified, have determined that saliva swabs of that variant were better indicators of infection than nasal swabs in the P.C.R. tests, although the opposite was true for the Delta variant. But other research studies have had mixed results. As is usual, more research is needed.

There are also other aspects to saliva tests. It is possible that while highly sensitive tests like PCR might identify infection in saliva days earlier, less sensitive tests like the antigen test in the at-home kit, might not. And there are other considerations. What else has passed through the mouth before the test is given? And how will that affect the pH and the result? Also, saliva can be “viscous and difficult to work with,” especially when patients are sick and dehydrated, according to Dr. Marie-Louise Landry, director of the clinical virology laboratory at Yale New Haven Hospital, who is also quoted in the NYT.

In Britain, some at-home tests require swabbing both the throat and the nose. Multiple site testing would seem to offer an advantage. But test manufacturers would have to reconfigure their tests accordingly. Throat swabs need to be bigger. And most importantly, the at-home rapid antigen tests would have to be authorized for mouths or throats, which they currently are NOT. The biochemistry of the mouth is different from that of the nose and may yield a false positive.

Ultimately a variety of test options to meet a variety of situations would seem the best result. For those who have symptoms for several days, a nasal swab might be the choice. Saliva tests might work better for large-scale surveillance of asymptomatic people.

Meanwhile making at-home antigen tests available for everyone is a positive step.

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Photo from Wikimedia Commons

“The present situation is to be regarded as one of opportunity for us and not of disaster. There will only be cheerful faces at this conference table.” — Dwight D. Eisenhower, supreme allied commander 

Approaching the middle of December 1944, the allied powers in Europe pushed back the German forces practically to their own border. The allies landed at Normandy in France on June 6, 1944, also known as D-Day, and this successful invasion established the beginning of the end of Hitler’s rule in Western Europe.  

While the fighting was brutal on the beaches and later through the dangerous terrain of the hedge groves, under the leadership of Eisenhower and the armored drive of Gen. George Patton, the Germans took extremely high losses. 

There was absolute joy on Aug. 19 when allied forces rolled through the streets of Paris, where they were greeted with loud cheers of freedom. 

The once victorious German army was reeling after several battlefield losses, and by December 1944 the allies were about to enter this Axis nation. The others were Italy and Japan.

With the Soviet Union liberating their own territory and pushing into Eastern Europe, there was no respite within any part of the German frontlines, and during the night and day allied air crews strategically bombed German factories, resources, transportation, weapons and troop movements.  

“Total war” brought the realization that the German military had no chance to win this war and that the end was near.  

Eisenhower’s “broad front” campaign moved allied armies from the English Channel to the Swiss border. It was the confident belief among western forces that the German war machine would surrender within the face of defeat.  

Operation Autumn Mist was the last major military offensive that Hitler waged against the allies, to attempt to drive a wedge between the western armies, with the goal of regaining the Belgian port of Antwerp. If the Germans could strike a powerful blow against the allies, Hitler mistakenly believed that the West would possibly agree to a peace, and Germany would turn its full attention to fighting the Soviet Union.  

As the Germans were attacked from every direction, they organized 250,000 soldiers from 14 infantry divisions guarded by five panzer divisions. This surprise assault was a dangerous breakdown of allied intelligence. The Germans broke through the Ardennes Forest in southeast Belgium and hit allied positions that were in Belgium, France and Luxembourg. 

There were only 80,000 allied soldiers who were shocked by this assault, and thousands were taken as prisoners of war. The Germans penetrated their armies against the American forces that still wore summer uniforms and had little ammunition.  

Eisenhower was just promoted to his fifth star as General of the Army, and expected to travel to Versailles, France, to attend the wedding of his orderly Mickey McKeogh. 

It was an attack that struck at the nerve of the broad front that was mostly held by American forces which faced shortages in reinforcements and resources. Brig. Gen. Anthony McAuliffe was demanded by his German counterpart that he surrender the 101st Airborne Division at Bastogne, Belgium. It did not help McAuliffe that the weather conditions were extremely poor, and American airplanes were briefly unable to provide air support and the ability to drop food and ammunition. As Bastogne was considered to be located at strategic crossroads, Eisenhower ordered that this town must be held at all costs by the 101st Airborne Division. 

A famous victory

On Dec. 19, Eisenhower held a vital meeting with his key generals to contain and destroy this attack. His longtime friend Patton stated that he was able to disengage from his own battle, and push in force to assault the German armies to relieve the pressure that was placed on Bastogne.  

Eisenhower counted on the battlefield drive of Patton and sought the general’s Third Army to relieve Bastogne and to make the Germans pay for this surprise attack. Both senior officers were old friends and Eisenhower looked at the irony of receiving the new senior rank and observed, “George, every time I get promoted, I get attacked.” Patton responded to his boss, “Yes, and every time you get attacked, I bail you out.” 

During a time of brief defeat, this battle showed the true spirit of the American soldier and officer to overcome the burdens of bad weather and surprise of the German assault to achieve a great victory.

The Battle of the Bulge posed the serious problem of German spies who landed behind American lines and were dressed as American military police officers. The enemy changed and destroyed road signs, and were believed to be searching for Eisenhower, Patton and Gen. Omar Bradley. 

American soldiers started using challenging passwords that focused on former World Series games, movie stars and political leaders to determine if an unknown soldier was possibly a spy. The German troops acted with total disregard toward the prisoners of war that had fallen into their hands.  

Near the Belgian town of Malmedy, SS Lt. Col. Joachim Peiper was the head of the “Adolph Hitler” Division and ordered his soldiers to brutally kill 84 Americans within an open field.  

Word quickly spread about these atrocities, and this motivated Americans to hold their ground against the unrelenting pressure of the German army.

At Verdun in northeast France, Eisenhower ordered Patton to take additional time to gain enough men and materials, and to make his first strike against the enemy a powerful one. With his soldiers and through the snow, Patton led the American Army through one of the largest battles ever fought by this nation. Although Patton previously warned about the possibility of an attack of this nature, he was determined to destroy the German army that was now in the open.  

American forces began their pursuit to relieve the beleaguered garrison at Bastogne and to inflict casualties on Hitler’s last-ditch attempt to gain a victory in the west. The German high command envisioned a successful plan that would see their forces reach the French Meuse River, but they did not count on the 500,000 American soldiers that destroyed this plan.

Through a blizzard that created awful weather conditions, there were a reported 15,000 cold weather injuries and ailments that were created pneumonia, frostbite and trench foot. 

New York Yankee Ralph Houk, rose from the rank of private to major during World War II and fought in the Battle of the Bulge. This catcher was decorated with the Purple Heart, Silver Star and Bronze Star for valor in service.  

During this fight, Houk’s leadership prevented a major attack from over 200 enemy soldiers and five Tiger tanks. He was later ordered to take a jeep and a letter with vital intelligence to the beleaguered town of Bastogne. During his way through enemy lines, Houk was wounded in the leg. After this battle, he was almost killed when a German bullet traveled through his helmet. 

Houk was later manager of the Yankees which won the 1961 World Series with Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris and D-Day World War II veteran Yogi Berra. Houk’s Yankees won the World Series again in 1962. He always said he was fortunate to survive the Battle of the Bulge. 

The fighting lasted until Jan. 25, 1945, with the heavy cost of 19,000 Americans killed, 47,500 wounded and 23,000 captured or missing in action.  

British Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery took credit for rescuing the American military during the height of the Battle of the Bulge. Monty. as he was known, was one of the most difficult leaders that Eisenhower had to manage as supreme commander of allied forces.  

British Prime Minister Winston Churchill fully realized that the United States provided the vast majority of soldiers and weaponry into the war in Northwestern Europe. About this failed German offensive, he said, “This is undoubtedly the greatest American battle of the war and will, I believe, be regarded as an ever-famous American victory.” 

Rich Acritelli is a history teacher at Rocky Point High School and adjunct professor at Suffolk County Community College. Sean Hamilton, president of the high school history honor society, contributed to this article.

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Pixabay photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

It’s a new year and I have a new suggestion for our readers. Inspired by The New York Times column that is published on Sundays, called Metropolitan Diary, we would like to offer a similar feature. The Diary is made up of short vignettes, sent in by readers, of anecdotes and interactions that occur as part of city life. Each week, while individually interesting, they also reflect the unique tone of what it is like to live in New York City.

We would like to start a Village Diary, perhaps to run once a month, which would be fun to read and also speak of our existence here in Suffolk County. We would have to depend on you to do this because it would consist of stories and conversations you would like to share. They could be anything exemplifying, “Would you believe this!” to “Why I am proud of the place in which I live,” or “This is what my wife said to me at breakfast this morning,” or even “What they yelled at the umpire.”

As an illustration, I can tell you one of my favorites from the NYT about life in the Big Apple. Two couples were sharing a cab ride to the Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center. The older couple was taking the younger one to their first opera, Verdi’s Otello. The older man was seated in front, and as they rode along, he draped his left arm over the back of the seat and was telling the plot to those in the back. Just as he got to the part of Iago, his green-eyed jealousy, and the misplaced handkerchief, they pulled up in front of Lincoln Center, and he reached over to pay the fare. To his surprise, the cab driver blocked his arm and said, “Nobody leaves this cab until I hear the end.” 

There are a couple of encounters I have thought to send in. One involves parking my car in the theater district. Because I have special plates, I usually park on a block west of the district that has four spaces reserved for those cars. This time, when my friend and I pulled up at the usual place, the spots were taken by cars without proper plates. “Where else can you park?” asked my friend.

As I sat there, my head down, trying to think of alternatives, there was a knock at my window. Surprised, I turned to see a smiling man in an orange jumpsuit. When I opened the window, he asked, “Want a parking space? Wait two minutes and you can have four.” I looked back and there was a long, flatbed truck with a huge hook on the end.

True to his word, he had pulled the illegally parked cars onto his truck in a couple of minutes, and with a wave, he and his load were off. I now had my choice of spot. “You are lucky I am here as a witness,” commented my friend. “No one would believe this story.”

Another such incident involved a friend who was visiting from Boston and was driving us both into the city. Only when she had stopped alongside the electronic machine of the EZ Pass lane at the entrance to the tunnel, did she realize she was not driving the car with the pass on the windshield. “You can’t back up,” I yelled. “Oh my gosh, here comes a cop,” she shouted. Indeed, a police officer was bearing down on us from the next lane, a ticket book in his hand and a deep scowl on his face.

“Whatsa matter wit chou?” he yelled as he reached us. “Don’t ya know hadda drive?”

“I’m so sorry officer,” my friend replied. “I thought I had the other car.” Only she didn’t say “car” but rather “cahhr,” revealing her origin.

“Cahhr? Cahhr?” the policeman repeated. Then, “Go on, get odda here,” and he waved us through the raised gate. We never paid the toll.

Please send any such local stories to [email protected]. We will gladly print them.   

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Pixabay photo

By Daniel Dunaief

I am a terrible loser.

Daniel Dunaief

I blame John McEnroe, Billy Martin, Lou Piniella, Pete Rose, and a host of politicians who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, accept defeat.

All of those people hated to lose. McEnroe had temper tantrums that were so epic that he’s spoofed himself many times, complaining in movies that “you can’t be serious” when things don’t go his way.

Frustrated with the umpiring in a game, Martin would kick dirt on home plate or have an epic meltdown in front of over 50,000 people.

I don’t ever remember any of those tirades or temper tantrums when they or their teams were winning.

Being American means winning. To borrow from the cliche, it means giving 110%.

I can’t tolerate losing, just as CEOs, politicians, athletes and sports coaches and managers can’t stand it, either. Many people hate losing as much if not more than they enjoy winning.

The fans who pay to see their teams win, not just to see them play, boo mercilessly when stars like the New York Knicks Julius Randle don’t live up to their contracts and don’t lead the team to more victories than defeats.

Randle recently expressed his frustration in response to the fans’ disappointment by giving them the thumbs down in a game.

Unconditioned positive regard, however, doesn’t come with having your name in lights or being a star on a celebrated team.

We get that from family members, sometimes, and from psychologists or psychiatrists.

As Americans, we have expectations of ourselves that have been set, in some cases, by role models like athletes, politicians and other popular icons.

At the end of the year, sports networks don’t focus on the best concessions speeches and the most gracious losers.

They are much more likely to replay the greatest rants and epic press conferences when athletes or coaches completely lose their composure in response to a question. We watch in rapt fascination as these superstars have a tantrum or glumly express disappointment.

Being a sore loser is also good business. The media empires on the left and the right long ago figured that out. During the Trump administration, nothing the former president said or did was good enough. The outrage factor over his thoughts, actions, gaffes and verbal inadequacies were attacked mercilessly.

Fox, which spent the last four years laughing at the liberal crying machine, has now turned its attention to attacking President Joe Biden (D) in a similar fashion, mocking everything he says or does or doesn’t do. 

People in the sports world describe muscle memory. They train their bodies and minds to react to evolving situations instantly, so they know where to go, what to do, and how to advance their cause.

That preparation almost never includes lessons on what to do when you lose or are losing. No one plays to lose, and yet, every game has a loser.

Maybe this year, we should prepare ourselves better for the moment we lose. We don’t have to be miserable, stare out blankly at the field, the way baseball players always do after the last game of the World Series, wishing they could have been that team that’s dogpiling near the pitcher’s mound.

Maybe this year, when people are continuing to struggle with a third year of the pandemic, we can hope for a celebration of great competition from both teams. 

We can take comfort and feel joy in the recognition that we brought out the best in each other.

Even when we lose, we can, to borrow from Lou Gehrig, still feel like the “luckiest people on the face of the Earth” for having been a part of something we know is special, regardless of the outcome.

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Photo from Unsplash

With Christmas this weekend, families are looking to get together for some quality time.

Last Christmas, in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, people quarantined with just those in their households. It was lonely for some, but they stayed safe, away from contact with other people.

Then 2021 came around and with the vaccines we saw some hope — we began slowly peeling off our masks and traveling again. Families became reunited.

But unfortunately, that was premature and now Suffolk County is at a 14% positivity rate as of Tuesday, Dec. 21.

To put it in perspective, municipalities across New York state were shut down at 5% in the spring of 2020. We have doubled the seven-day average compared to where we were at that time and have not shut down.

And there are reasons for that. Luckily more than a year-and-a-half later we have the vaccines, we have boosters and we know that masks work — we just need to continue using them and continue using common sense.

It’s sad to think that this is the second Christmas where some families might not be able to see their loved ones out of fear. It’s sad that we as a country were doing well and now have fallen back into old habits of not taking care of ourselves and of others.

If we continue not to listen to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, our health care providers and the science,

Politicians insist we won’t go into lockdown, but what will happen if the infection rate goes to 20%? What will we do if the hospitals are overfilled again?

With the comfort we felt during this past summer, newly vaccinated with restrictions lifted, some might have forgotten what early 2020 looked like. Visits to grandparents were through a window. Restaurants were not allowed to have inside dining. Disinfectants and masks were impossible to find, while bodies were kept in outside trailers because the morgue was filled to capacity.

We don’t want to head back in that direction, especially with all of the resources now available to us. We have the vaccine, we have the booster, we have masks and we know how to combat this virus. We just need to collectively do it and not treat it lightly.

So, for this holiday season, and throughout the rest of the winter, please take care of yourself, take care of others and be cautious.

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Pexels photo

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

He was a part of my wife’s family’s inner circle for years. He appeared at summer gatherings and at significant family events and celebrations.

With his white hair, his signature smile and a Polish accent that seemed as fresh in each conversation as it likely was the first time he arrived in the United States, Carl wandered in and out of conversations and rooms, often smiling and always listening.

He seemed as comfortable in his own skin as anyone I’d ever met, paying close attention to his wife, interacting with his children and grandchildren and soaking up life the way everyone around him soaked up the warm rays of the sun.

Carl watched one day almost 20 years ago when my daughter got too close to the pool’s edge, falling in before she could swim. I immediately jumped off the diving board and brought her back up, where, as I dried her off, she protested that it took too long for me to get her.

When my daughter felt comfortable and confident enough to walk away from me, Carl waited for me to make eye contact.

“That’s what you do when you’re a father,” he smiled.

I nodded and sighed while my blood pressure and pulse returned to normal.

Several times over the years, Carl and I sat next to each other, sharing buffet-style meals of chicken kebobs, pasta, and filets.

Carl didn’t have the numbers tattooed on his arm, but I knew some of the story of his life. I didn’t want to bother him or upset him with a discussion of what was a painful and difficult period.

Once, when we were alone inside a screened-in area, I raised the topic.

“Hey, Carl, I understand you survived the holocaust,” I said.

When he looked me in the eyes, he narrowed his lids slightly, processing what I said and, likely, trying to figure out whether he wanted to talk.

“It’s okay,” I said, immediately backing off. As a journalist, I have a tendency to ask questions. I recognize, however, the boundaries that exist during social interactions and with family and friends. I wanted to speak with him to hear about what had been an unspoken part of his life.

“Yes, I survived,” I said.

“How? Where?”

“In the woods,” he said. “I lived in the woods when the Nazis came.”

He described how he was so hungry that he ate leaves, bugs and bark. That, however, was far preferable to being caught by the Nazis, who had murdered the rest of his family. Carl had been a teenager when he escaped to the woods, avoiding Nazi guards who were always searching for people they deemed enemies and who they readily killed.

Surrounded by a collection of other people who might, at any given time, vanish forever, Carl survived for several years, emerging at the end of the war to try to restart a life shattered by violence and cruelty.

After a brief description of his experience, he told me how important he felt it was that people study the specifics of World War II and understand what really happened to him, his family and people in so many other countries. It angered him that people tried to ignore a history that took so much from him.

All those years later, Carl seemed so easy going and relaxed, so prepared to laugh and smile and to enjoy another bite of lunch or dinner.

Carl recently died. I’m sorry for the loss to his family. I’m glad to have known him and to have shared a few meals, a few smiles and a few stories. All those days, months and years of life, like initials carved into a tree, showed that he was, indeed, here and, having seen his family react and interact with him, that his life had meaning.

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By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

As the year draws to a close, I think of the Chinese curse, “May you live in interesting times.” That would seem an apt description of the times we are living through today. Why do I say that? Let me count the ways.

For one, we have been tricked by the coronavirus. As spring faded into summer this year, we thought the pandemic was ebbing. We gathered in groups again, even without masks, visited relatives, returned to restaurants, went on vacations. Surprise! By the end of October, the virus started making itself felt again, by November, it was led by the new variant, Omicron, and now it commands the front page of newspapers and the top of the network and cable newscasts.

Yes, we have made impressive progress with vaccines and precautions, but society is still in the grip of the disease, still with some 30 percent of the population unvaccinated, still with those refusing to don masks, and now lined up not for inoculating but for testing. Testing and boosters are the new battle cry. Just as our grandparents, who were living through it, didn’t know when WWII would end, so we who are at war with the virus don’t know when the pandemic will fade into just another annoying wintertime contagion.

For another unprecedented way in recent memory that times are interesting, we have a country so divided and vehemently at odds that neighbors, friends and family members are afraid to talk politics with each other. It is such a contrast with the 9/11 era, when we all held doors open for each other, flew the American flag together and identified as one nation. “Democracy is at risk” is the new battle cry. And the threat of political violence and random shootings simmers just beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, worthy issues involving any sort of social safety net and how to provide money for them, like pre-school education and acceptable child care enabling parents to work, lie undebated in a symbolically divided Congress. It’s no wonder that the national birthrate for this past year is the lowest since 1979. That’s not just due to the pandemic but has been a trend for the last six years.

Climate change is another subject that has driven itself to top of mind this past year. Fires, the likes of which never before seen, also floods, tornadoes and melting ice caps have changed the face of the nation and have killed many residents.

And then there is racism, the shadow that has always loomed over the United States since its inception and has burst forth to claim attention across the country, spawning marches and protests. Is it better for bigotry to come out of the woodwork and be viewed in all its aspects in the clear light of day? Perhaps that is a necessary step for it to be ultimately eradicated. Until then, the atmosphere is bitter with recriminations.

There are some bright spots. Although the possibility of spiraling inflation has lately been a concern, unemployment is decidedly low and the economy has been growing. So has the stock market, while not the economy, is nonetheless a telltale of how their financial standing is perceived by residents. Stimulative monetary policy on the part of the Federal Reserve and equally generous fiscal action by the administrations of both presidents and Congress have kept civil unrest at bay. Savings rates are at a high. And the kinks in the supply chain, although most apparent now with the gift-giving demands of the holidays, will eventually be straightened out.

Furthermore, Dec. 21 is one of my favorite days because it brings with it the longest night of the year. After that, each day has a bit more light. So I hope for whatever darkness we are presently living through to lift, and I am optimistic that it will.

Until the new year, wishing you all healthy holidays filled with devotion and love.

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Ashley Doxey collected gift cards during teacher conferences for soldiers. Photo by Andrew Harris

These days, we are constantly reminded about how this holiday season is going to be sparse; but here at Comsewogue, students won’t be lacking. 

When I first got into teaching, I was worried about not being welcomed by the students since I was an older teacher. Fortunately, the students at Comsewogue High School and the middle school enthusiastically welcome me on a daily basis. 

They bring me treats and do amazing things —often these things go unrecognized (and that is fine with them since it’s not the reason they do it). On the other hand, I feel it is necessary to highlight positive actions.

One of those amazing things I see is how some “typical” students get involved and help out our students with disabilities. As a special education teacher, I see so much value when students get actively involved and help our special education classes. 

On their own time, students build garden beds to be used for different Comsewogue classes. Photo by Andrew Harris

Our students planned and executed one of the most incredible projects for their Eagle Scouts organization. They built several raised garden beds and picnic tables (taking special consideration to ensure they would be accessible to students in a wheelchair). These pieces are in our courtyard and are used often by our students. 

I made it known to other students how they too can be of service to people in the special needs community. 

“Come visit our classes and see where you can help,” I said, and they did! One young lady (an aspiring baked goods aficionado) came to our class and worked with the students to create some delicious and beautiful cupcakes. We have since been visited by student artists, musicians, therapy dogs, and all-around friendly folks ready, willing to lend a hand. 

Recently, some of our superstar athletes invited some special athletes to join them at their awards dinner. These young helpers are much more inspirational to their special needs peers. Often these helper-leaders will tell me how rewarding it is to assist, and how great they feel afterward. 

For the past two years, I’ve thought about how positive an impact these young leaders have within our school. I would like to encourage this type of leadership even more. I would also like to encourage them to explore teaching as a possible career. 

This spring, we are planning on taking some of them to an outstanding leadership seminar where I was impressed by a quote I saw: “A child with disabilities often spends hours being taught how to interact with others… But why don’t we spend time teaching those without disabilities how to interact with them?”  

This year our country has endured unbelievable hardship. Because of this, the need to encourage our wonderful student-leaders has increased even more. For their own birthdays, students Alyssa Morturano and Ashley Doxey raised money and donated it all to the Special Olympics. 

One student, Kylie Schlosser helps students with disabilities through an organization called Great Strides, where she connects students with equine therapy, giving them a chance to ride and learn about horses. 

Recently students helped with a massive clean-up activity at a summer camp for special needs children. Within school, they do fundraisers, assist with classes, and do work around our special garden. 

On their own time, students build garden beds to be used for different Comsewogue classes. Photo by Andrew Harris

Our monthly Athletics for All events are starting up again. The kindness continues to spread district wide. In addition to all of this, many of these same students perform outstanding academically, athletically, and artistically. 

In our small community of Port Jefferson Station, many need to hold down difficult and time-consuming jobs. These jobs are often customer service-related, and I have personally witnessed some of them keep a smile on their face even while being treated with insensitivity. 

“It is students like this that make this a great district; it’s the reason we get up and go to work every day with a smile on our faces,” said Superintendent Jennifer Quinn.

Perhaps this holiday season we can all be encouraged and inspired by these students and give the “stuff” that really counts — give to others in need from the heart. 

Instead of thinking about all the “goods” we desire, buying and getting, let’s think about the gifts we receive from the giving.

Andrew Harris is a teacher with the Comsewogue School District.

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