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Kite. Pixabay photo

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

The visitor comes unexpectedly sneaking around corners, invisible in the air even if you’re staring directly at him.

He is particularly welcome in the summer, when it’s so hot that the sweat on your skin only makes you wet and clammy, without providing much relief.

A cold drink might help, you think. As your fingers take respite from the moisture on the cup, your lips, tongue and mouth journey far from the heat, giving your brain the chance to ignore the signals the rest of your body is sending about how hot and miserable you are.

Short as this comfort is, it’s nothing compared to the effect this guest brings.

I tend to make an odd face when I get too hot, curling my short, thick tongue into my slightly larger lower palate and waiting, as patiently as possible, for the fall to bring cooler temperatures, Halloween costumes, pumpkin pie and, down the road, maybe a snowman that’s taller than me and my son who years ago started bending down to hug his father.

Today, however, during that most amazing of now moments, the guest has arrived, offering the kind of cooling and refreshing massage that lasts much longer than an hour. He charges nothing for his services.

He has an open invitation, of course, but he doesn’t always accept the offer, particularly when he’s traveling elsewhere.

He makes the horseflies scatter and alters the surface of the water, causing the kind of rippling pattern that may inspire a young mathematician eager to find a formula to explain what she sees.

He can interrupt even the most heated of discussions, debates and disagreements. It’s hard to be angry or to make an aggressive point when he’s around. And, in case you ignore him, he has a way of making his presence felt, knocking that stylish hat off your head and into the Long Island Sound, causing that expensive silk scarf to ruffle toward your face, or loosening those carefully tucked bangs.

Powerful as the sun and heat are, he can offer a counterbalance.

He can be cruel, knocking a bird’s nests out of the trees. He can also topple a table filled with carefully cooked cuisine, turning the mouth watering meal into a mess. When he feels like attending a baseball game, he can turn a home run into a fly ball and vice versa.

Ah, but go with him when you’re sailing, flying a kite or just sitting on a hot beach, and he brings the kind of cleansing magic to the air that water brings to a parched plate.

He helps send a kite high into the air, tugging on a line that causes the kite to dart, dive, dip and climb.

On a sailboat, he is the copilot, willing your ship, no matter its size, faster. You don’t need a motor when he’s around and you may not even need to drink that iced tea, lemonade, ice cold beer or soft drink you brought along with you.

After a sail, even on some of the hottest days, but particularly around dusk, he provides cool comfort in much the same way a blanket offers warmth during the coolest nights of the winter.

As he climbs through the nearby trees, he seems to ask you to “shhh.” Then, he waltzes past chimes, tapping each sound singularly and together, singing a unique summer melody that changes with each of his appearances.

He is an equal opportunity flag waver, indifferent to the political leanings of the people who hoisted the revered cloth to the top of a pole.

One of my favorite companions during the summer, I celebrate the cherished breeze, not only for the comfort he affords but for the way he alters the landscape and offers a respite from the heat.

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Kenya, Africa. Pixabay photo

By Leah Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

One of the reasons we travel is to broaden our horizons, literally and figuratively. Yes, we want to see new vistas, consider how others live, and cut ourselves a little break from our daily routines. The same could be said when we meet people from elsewhere. They come from different worlds, bring their personal history and cultural differences into view, and generally teach us about more than what exists in our own small circle.

Such is also the benefit of diversity. We don’t have to travel to find new worlds, we only have to be aware of others who come from those different worlds and admit them into ours.

All of which is to say that last Monday, as I went about my daily routine, I met a lovely woman from Kenya, and we had time for a leisurely talk. Now there were only three things I knew about Kenya. It is a country in Eastern Africa. A friend went with her extended family on a safari there some years ago and raved about it on her return. Runners from Kenya, both male and female, usually win the New York City Marathon. That’s it.

At least, that was it until we started to chat. Now that she raised my consciousness about her home, I realized that Kenya has been in the news lately. Elections were scheduled this past Tuesday, and they were hotly contested. This much I learned from the PBS News Hour Monday night. Because of my encounter, I paid more attention to that news segment as well as to a couple of news stories in The  New York Times. She brought her country within my view.

The news stories told me more.

William Ruto, 55, the self-proclaimed leader of Kenya’s “hustler nation” [his designation], was vice president for nine years but was now portraying himself as an outsider, representing the masses of frustrated young people, most of them poor, who just want to get ahead. He paints his rivals as elitist. That would include Raila Odinga, 77, who is running for president for the fifth time but who now has made an alliance with his former bitter rival, the outgoing president, Uhuru Kenyatta, who is backing him. The race is expected to be close.

Why should we care about Kenya?

“Since its first competitive multi-party elections 20 years ago, the East African nation has emerged as a burgeoning technology hub, a key counterterrorism partner, a source of world-class athletes and an anchor of stability in a region roiled by starvation and strife,” according to the newspaper article. Some 80 % of Kenyans voted in the 2017 election, making for a democracy in the midst of nations run by strongmen. 

There are major concerns now. The pandemic and the Ukrainian War have badly affected their economy, which already was struggling under heavy debt to China for financing a railroad and road projects. This was part of its trillion-dollar Belt and Road Initiative, aiming to expand China’s economic and political influence in Africa. China never has financed the completion of this construction, leaving the railroad to end abruptly in a field 200 miles short of its intended destination in neighboring Uganda. But the debt remains to be paid, and the railroad is further enmeshed in serious corruption charges. Meanwhile China is reconsidering its early investments in African infrastructure since it paid out large amounts of money to countries with shaky economies. But the Chinese government still seeks influence in Africa, as does Russia, which was supplying much of its grain.

The 54 nations and 1.4 billion people on the African continent are important enough to us that Secretary of State Antony Blinken just started a tour of countries there. His trip and the election in Kenya are more meaningful to me now, thanks to the conversation I enjoyed with the woman who may become a new friend.

Now back to travel. She enticed me to visit with a description of their magnificent sand beaches along the Indian Ocean. Travel, imagined or real, is a beautiful thing.

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METRO photo

During a meeting of the Port Jefferson Board of Trustees on Monday, Aug. 1, trustee Lauren Sheprow suggested building closer ties between the village government and Stony Brook University experts.

Sheprow, who worked as the university communications officer at SBU for over a decade, proposed the creation of a local think tank composed of resident experts whose specialized knowledge could be used in service to the community. We believe that this is a neat idea, worthy of the public’s attention and further exploration.

Long Islanders sometimes forget that there are world-renowned scholars living among us. SBU is the largest single-site employer on Long Island. This institution harbors thousands of faculty members who are trained specialists in their chosen fields.

Citizens can often feel alienated from their local government. Municipal operations — reports, budgets, meetings, hearings and so on — can appear to be endless drudgery at times. Perhaps, innovative thinkers could be the source of new ideas.

With regularity, we read about various scientific and medical breakthroughs made by SBU faculty members. From the sciences to mathematics, the humanities to the arts, SBU students and faculty are changing our world for the better. These are people of immense talent and wisdom, sometimes an untapped resource in solving local problems.

The community would tap into local experts who could offer up their insights on matters that most affect us. Specialists could advise our elected officials to make better decisions. 

This is not without precedent. During the administration of SBU President John Marburger, there was a community advisory council, or CAC, in which such a relationship was forged. It was disbanded some 15 years ago. Perhaps it’s time to bring that back.

Anything that brings the government closer to the people, injecting new blood and ideas into the political process, is beneficial to democracy. We should support our local municipalities in strengthening their ties to local universities. This is good for the government, the university and the people.

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Lucas Films

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

When times are tough, we can use nostalgia as a bittersweet salve.

Nostalgia serves as both a source of comfort, allowing us to step out of our current situations, while also providing a longing for something that may be impossible to find or rediscover.

To that end, I’d like to share a nostalgic and a not nostalgic list.

— Being out of touch. I know that may seem odd, particularly for someone whose job involves keeping people in touch with information, but I miss the days when people couldn’t find me. I remember getting a beeper for the first time and thinking this was a slippery slope to nonstop accountability.

— Snow days. In the most intense heat of the summer, it’s easy to become nostalgic for the unplanned gift of a day off from school and, way back when, for some time at home with my parents. The night before a snow day, I would go to a particular window in the backyard, turn on the light and assess the size of the snowflakes. If they were too big, the temperature was likely far too warm and the snow would likely turn into rain. Smaller and super numerous snowflakes, like a colony of termites building a home, could work their magic overnight, causing the trees to bend in front of my window.

— Cultural excitement. We are so divided on so many issues these days, but I miss the general excitement that comes from blockbuster movies. I remember the experience of seeing the movie “Star Wars” in a packed theater and the excited conversation from people as the John Williams music sent them home happy.

— The meaningful sitcom. “M*A*S*H” somehow combined humor and drama, blending comedy with intense situations in an army hospital in the Korean War. The sitcom “Mom,” which deals with addiction, friendship, familial issues and loss, brought the same impressive acting to difficult situations softened by humor.

— Eating less healthy food. I miss the ability to eat a burger, fries and onion rings at one of my favorite restaurants (RIP The Good Steer) without having that food interrupt my sleep, create unfortunate digestive experiences or contribute to an expanding girth.

— Letting our dog roam the neighborhood. Our current dog is rarely off his leash. Decades ago, we’d ask our dog if he wanted to go out, he’d run to the door and return to play when he heard us outside or to have his evening meal and play at night. He walked himself.

— My dad. My father had the uncanny ability to make me laugh, even and especially when I was frustrated. Seeing my sour face, he’d come toward me in a battle of wills he knew he’d win. He’d make a strange face or do something unpredictable, forcing me to smile despite myself.

Okay, so, how about a few things for which I am not nostalgic.

— The rear-facing seat of a station wagon. The seat often didn’t have much room, because we also packed bags and suitcases back there, and was facing the wrong way, which meant that nausea, particularly on tight turns, was a constant companion.

— The Yankees around 1990. With a respectful nod to Don Mattingly, those teams were pretty close to unwatchable. 

— Marching band practice. I loved so many parts of my musical upbringing, but marching band doesn’t make the list. We sweat for hours on hot fields. During performances, our heavy, unflattering uniforms trapped heat and felt stiffer than denim that had dried too quickly.

— Going to the airport to change tickets. Awful as today’s airline experiences are, we drove to the airport and waited in line to change tickets. Today, we can go online, where systems are busy and the airlines tells us to try back later.

— Waiting for carpools. To borrow from J.D. Salinger and William Golding, waiting for exhausted parents to pick up a collection of teenagers dripping with Holden Caulfield angst was akin to living through a sociological “Lord of the Flies” experiment.

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'The Hangman and his Wife'

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

Driving along a residential street in what seemed from doorbell videos to be a white Prius, a man tossed a plastic bag on each lawn as he moved along. It might have been a newspaper delivery, but it wasn’t. It was a package of hateful flyers whose words were directed against Jews. The bags contained rice or pebbles to weigh them down and keep them from blowing away in the wind.

Police have been investigating the hate messages delivered to homes in Rockville Centre, Oceanside and Long Beach in Nassau County and have blamed an anti-Jewish group for the activity, which has also occurred in other cities in the country. Whether these groups are aligned through the internet has yet to be determined. But we do know that the internet has carried hateful messages throughout the world, a far cry from the original idea that digital connectivity could be only a positive platform for revealing despots’ brutality in far corners of the globe.

We now know the internet can be a powerful tool to radicalize otherwise ordinary people who might be susceptible to the hateful messages. But how do ordinary people become radicalized?

A book was just published that attempts to deal historically with that subject by focusing on Reinhard Heydrich, who became the head of the SD (the intelligence service) and the Gestapo as well as an architect of the Final Solution for the Third Reich. “The Hangman and His Wife,” by Nancy Dougherty, tells of a man without ideological roots, who was not a fervent believer and only joined the Nazi Party in 1931, two years after his future wife, Lina. Yet he began what the senior New York Times book reviewer, Christopher Lehmann-Haupt, who wrote the forward to the book, described this way.

“One searches in vain for a rational explanation of Heydrich’s descent into evil. No single biological fragment satisfies.”

According to the book’s author, Heydrich evolved from a musically gifted, intelligent and lonely little boy into a monstrous, hyper-rational technocrat with a photographic memory and unmatched organizational abilities. How he was perceived may have been a starting point. He had “striking Aryan looks,” and for Heinrich Himmler, who first interviewed him, and who “was weak-chinned and squinted from behind thick glasses … a physically unimposing” figure, Heydrich fit the Nazi ideal. “For all their focus on Nordic physical perfection, the Nazi leaders were a bunch of misfits … Goering was fat and jowly; Goebbels was clubfooted.” Hitler himself did not match the paragon. Here was this tall, blond candidate for head of the SS, who would be a poster child of Aryan perfection in his new uniform. He must have loved that.

Further, a close relative had a Semitic-sounding last name, and “he was shadowed by rumors that there was Jewish blood in his family and mocked during his nine years in the navy; one former roommate attested that ‘everyone more or less took Heinrich for a Jew,’” according to author Dougherty.

And this from another bunkmate: “there is no doubt that ambition was his characteristic peculiarity … On all occasions, he wanted to be outstanding — in the service, in front of his superiors, with the comrades, in sportsmanship and in bars.” Put that together with “his Luciferian coldness, amorality and insatiable greed for power,” according to Dougherty, and he became head of the Gestapo until he died in his Mercedes convertible from an assassin’s grenade on May 27, 1942. He received a full-dress state funeral from Hitler.

So do those personal qualities plus opportunity explain the emergence of a hate monger? Could any of these bag-tossers today become deeply evil and potentially homicidal? Or are they merely practicing freedom of speech? Do they just wish to stand out and be seen? Is capacity for malignant behavior what Freud called the “death instinct?” Or, as the book reviewer, Daphne Merkin, suggests, is there an inherent perverse glamour in evil?

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Short Beach is one of the places Smithtown residents go to feel cool in the summer heat. Photo by Rita J. Egan

While heat waves are an expected part of summer, navigating them isn’t always so simple. This weather can often lead to people suffering from heat exhaustion or heat stroke.

Our area has experienced relentless heat recently. Only halfway through summer, odds are that more scorching weather is ahead of us.

Most North Shore residents in Suffolk County are fortunate to have some form of air conditioning. For those who don’t, local municipalities can offer relief.

Each summer, the towns of Huntington, Smithtown and Brookhaven have helped residents escape intense heat. Huntington officials set up cooling stations during the hottest days of the year. The town announced July 19 that it would make cooling stations available at locations such as Clark Gillies Arena (formerly Dix Hills Ice Rink) and John J. Flanagan Center/Senior Center last week

Huntington, along with Smithtown and Brookhaven, expands hours at public beaches and pools during such weather events, too. When cooling stations or extended hours are needed, municipalities will post this information on their websites and social media pages.

These means of communication also come in handy during other weather events, such as flooding. While rainstorms can temporarily offset high temperatures, they can also quickly flood areas, presenting a public safety hazard. And we are also in the midst of hurricane season, so residents please keep an eye on those weather reports.

Regarding the heat, some helpful tips may come in handy.

When being exposed to hazardous heat, stay well hydrated, eat light, wear lightweight, loose-fitting clothing, minimize direct sun exposure and reduce time spent outdoors. These precautions should be heeded by all, especially by those who are older, pregnant or suffering from chronic health conditions. Caregivers should also monitor infants and children more closely than usual.

Of course, a visit to an air-conditioned mall to escape the heat can never be underestimated. A couple of hours of strolling and shopping inside can kill some time as the heat rages outside.

Remember, when going into the mall or a store, do not leave your pet in the car. Temperatures inside a parked car can be much higher than outside — up to 30 degrees or more. Never leave a pet unattended in a parked car, even if the window is cracked open. 

Also, the same precautions taken by humans apply to pets, so make sure they are getting plenty of water and are not outside during the hottest parts of the day. 

While we are fortunate to live in an area with plenty of choices to cool off, many residents are unaware of their options. Check on sick or older neighbors during heat waves just as you would during snowstorms to ensure they have everything they need.

And don’t sweat it; in a couple months, people will soon be enjoying the leaves changing color and a few weeks later will be building snowmen.

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On Tuesday, Aug. 2, the Brookhaven Redistricting Committee will hold a public hearing at the Rose Caracappa Senior Center (above), located at 739 Route 25A, Mount Sinai, NY.

During a meeting of the Port Jefferson Station/Terryville Civic Association on Tuesday, July 26, Brookhaven Town Councilmember Jonathan Kornreich (D-Stony Brook) delivered a startling warning to the people of this area. 

Kornreich, who represents Council District 1, unveiled draft plans for the redrawing of his council district. While he currently represents the entirety of the Port Jefferson Station and Terryville community on the town council, that will change if the draft plans are approved. 

Under this proposal, large swaths of territory — primarily from Terryville — will be moved into Council District 2. In exchange, Council District 1 will receive roughly half of Mount Sinai. Port Jefferson Station and Terryville will be effectively severed from one another and Mount Sinai will be sliced in two. This phenomenon is referred to as “cracking.”

Cracking is a longstanding and pernicious practice in political redistricting. Through cracking, mapmakers can dilute the voting power of a community by dividing its population across multiple districts. With less voting power, limited resources are far more likely to be diverted to the areas that offer politicians the most votes and the best odds at reelection. We cannot allow this to happen here. 

As one civic association member wisely acknowledged during Tuesday’s meeting, the places affected by the proposed redistricting scheme are communities of interest. This means that the people of these areas are unified by a common historic and cultural identity, by common institutions such as public schools and libraries, and by organizations such as civic associations and chambers of commerce. 

The people that work together to strengthen and enrich our community must not be separated by political boundaries. They should have one representative on the town council, a single point of contact to do their bidding. They require a representative who is committed to the community in its entirety and not just a fragment of it. 

The people of this area must rise in solidarity to resist the current redistricting plans. They must tell the Brookhaven Redistricting Committee and their elected leaders at Town Hall that they will not tolerate their community being cut into pieces. 

On Tuesday, Aug. 2, a public hearing will be held at 6 p.m. at the Rose Caracappa Senior Center in Mount Sinai to discuss the draft maps. Bring family, neighbors and friends. With numbers, the people of Council Districts 1 and 2 can, and will, keep their communities intact. 

There is no conceivable explanation for drastic changes to the present district boundaries. The people must stand together to champion this cause. If we stand united, then nothing can tear us apart. We will not crack under pressure.

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wedding table

By Daniel Dunaief

Daniel Dunaief

The son of my wife’s sister, my nephew, is older than I was when I met him.

It’s not so surprising, then, that he would be getting married, especially not after a long-term relationship that transitioned years ago from a matter of if to when in terms of marriage.

Still, it’s hard to imagine the next generation entering these milestone moments when I feel like my wife and I only recently got married, which clearly wasn’t such a recent event.

One of my first memories of my nephew, who was six years old when I babysat for his younger brother while he and his parents went to see “The Lion King” on Broadway, was of this enthusiastic child who wanted to participate in adult conversations.

On his way out the door, he promised to give me a thorough review of the show. While he was gone, his brother and I called my future wife. His younger brother pretended he was me and kept asking me what to say. Fortunately for him, my wife is as playful as he, and went along with the gag for a giggle-fest of a conversation.

A few years later, my sister-in-law told me she overheard her children discussing my marriage to their aunt. Her younger son was excited to add the title “uncle” to my name, while the older one wasn’t sure he wanted to call me “uncle.”

Not eager to stand on ceremony, I told him he could continue to call me “Dan,” although the uncle title quickly became a natural part of our interactions.

Over the years, I have reveled in his achievements, enjoyed hearing about his adventures, travels and jobs and have admired the joy he feels when he spends time with his fiancée.

He laughs, shares stories and dances with her at family parties.

With their wedding approaching in the next few days, it’s hard to believe that my wife and I will be members of the older generation.

Unlike my uncles and aunts, who attended my brother’s wedding in the summer and, generally, passed on my wedding in the winter, my wife and I have every intention of spending most of the wedding on the dance floor.

Yes, we’re older, and we likely won’t have the same modern dance moves that the next generation will likely display, but we love a great party and, what’s more, we love to celebrate life together.

As I did when we had a party for our daughter’s 16th birthday, I will likely sweat through my button down shirt and will probably drape my suit jacket over the back of the chair and won’t touch it until we’re clearing out the room.

At some point, someone with a video camera may come over to my wife and me, asking us to share our thoughts on this auspicious occasion.

I’m sure I will think about my antediluvian uncle, who was asked a similar question at my brother’s wedding.

After a long, reflective pause and with his customary flat affect, he looked directly into the camera. “It’s a sense o’ hyum’ah,” he suggested.

Listening to his wife whose voice cut through concrete as she exclaimed about everything from how much she loved my younger brother the best to how wonderful and delicious the food at any event was, I could see the importance of humor.

While my wife and I have reveled in making each other laugh, I don’t think I’ll repeat that line, even if it does apply, in part because it belongs to my uncle.

Instead, I may tell them to dance as often as they can and to enjoy the little moments, like the sound of a child’s laughter or the excited review of a Broadway show from a six-year-old.

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By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

Sitting at a bistro table on the sidewalk in Port Jefferson village this morning, sipping my coffee and people-watching, it occurred to me I could be anywhere enjoying such a scene. I was lingering on after a breakfast business meeting, and now alone, I relaxed with this thought. I could be in the many shoreline villages strung along the New England coast or any of the Atlantic fishing ports of the United States, or for that matter, those on the Pacific or the Gulf of Mexico. I could even be in Paris or Rome, although those are not portside locations.

That’s what summer will do to you. The warmth of the sun and the caressing breeze encourage daydreaming.

I saw residents walking their dogs, who, in turn, seemed more interested in what I was eating than in getting exercise. I greeted people I know, but haven’t seen in too long due to COVID, as they strolled by. A friend rolled down his window and waved on his drive up the block, calling out to me from the far lane to ask how I was. Customers at the next table started chatting with me and showing off their young baby, their first. The waitress came out to check on me and asked, “Can I get you anything more or would you just like to enjoy the moment?” Smart young woman, she understood.

We live in a wonderful place with many delightful offerings, but we probably don’t take the time to dwell on that fact. For example, even this past Thursday alone, we could have attended the opening night of the Stony Brook Film Festival, screening indie movies from throughout the world at the Staller Center on the campus of Stony Brook University. Or we might have tapped our feet and kept time with a performance at The Jazz Loft in Stony Brook village. The Huntington Summer Arts Festival has ongoing performances, this past Thursday featuring Lakecia Benjamin & Pursuance that started at 8 p.m. in Heckscher Park.

Also, on Thursday evening, there was the Smithtown Library concert, a lecture on the much-in-the-news sharks at the Whaling Museum in Cold Spring Harbor, a concert in the Show Mobile at Harborfront Park in the village of Port Jefferson, and in Northport Village Park the Northport Community Band continued its summer concert series. The Huntington Manor Fireman’s Fair, Long Island’s largest, started on Thursday at the Henry L. Stimson Middle School in Huntington Station.

And, as they say, so much more.

I’m not even mentioning the movie showings in the moonlight, the largesse of theaters, the art galleries, the farmers’ markets, the U-Pick opportunities, the wineries, the plethora of restaurants and opportunities for boutique shopping, and the glorious beaches to be enjoyed during the day and under the stars at night that are available at different times and days on our Island.

And try the local corn on the cob. This week it has been fabulous.

This may sound daffy to you, but when the weather becomes unbearably hot and humid, and I just want to get out on the water, I have even been known to ride the rear deck of the ferry to Bridgeport and back to Port Jefferson for a poor person’s afternoon cruise. And if you find yourself in need of a little exercise, walk the wooden pathway around Port Jefferson harbor, with or without your dog.

Next week is already August, and soon the summer will be gone, along with many of these attractions. While certainly others remain, we don’t have quite the leisure of mind to enjoy them that summer brings as the calendar turns.

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Cartoon by Kyle Horne: @kylehorneart

Communities are held together by norms of civility and an overriding spirit of goodwill.

Right now those norms are withering away, supplanted by foul behavior and disrespect. In communities throughout this area, there has been an observable decline in civility, a dangerous trend that jeopardizes the community’s long-term prospects.

At Stony Brook University, members of the campus community have expressed growing concerns about the frequency of hostile encounters taking place in nearby communities. Students and staff members have become targets of scorn and prejudice, a phenomenon that should disturb our residents deeply.

In addition, elected officials and business owners are dismayed by the recent spike in vandalism and destruction of public and private property. Perhaps most alarmingly, police have investigated the July 5 burning of a sign at a Ronkonkoma mosque as a possible hate crime.

While destroying property and desecrating houses of worship surely violates several of our laws, these actions also tear at the fabric of our community. After two years of lockdowns and separation, community members now seem more estranged from one another than ever before. 

The immediate consequence of all of this is that our community is less safe and less congenial than it once was. People will be less likely to spend their time and money in our local downtown areas, creating more vacant storefronts. But in the long run, people may soon flee this area in search of that community feeling that they couldn’t find here. 

Since ancient antiquity, scholars have understood that people of a community cannot be held together by laws alone. Laws create a system of rules and keep communities orderly and regulated, but they cannot inspire neighborliness or tolerance. Aristotle contended that “friendship” was the necessary ingredient for a community to thrive.

We must cultivate the bonds of friendship that once existed among our community members. As citizens of this area, we must recognize that each person is entitled to our respect, regardless of religion, race, ethnic background or politics. 

The people of Long Island are fortunate to have a superb public research institution right in their backyard, a place that offers jobs to our residents and a talented pool of students and staff who are eager to change the world for the better. We must welcome them as our own, deserving of our friendship and respect. We want them to stay right here on Long Island, where they can help us build upon and strengthen this community. 

In a similar vein, we cannot tolerate the destruction of public or private property. Budgets are tight enough in our county, towns and villages, and taxpayers should not be forced to absorb these preventable costs. Moreover, small businesses are struggling enough amid nationwide economic challenges and the ongoing public health emergency. We should not compound their hardships and expenses either.

Progress requires a reassessment and realignment of our system of values. Let’s rediscover what it means to be civil and respectful to one another. Let’s foster that sense of civic friendliness and community cohesion that existed before. We must learn to respect our neighbors again, for without respect this community will not endure. As Aretha Franklin sang, “Just a little bit, a little respect.”

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