By Leah S. Dunaief
Publisher
Many people in their pajamas are now summoned to get dressed, leave their homes and work full-time in the office. The working-remotely imperative is being phased out as COVID-19 fades and the new year begins. No more pajamas in front of the computer, disguised with a proper work shirt as far as Zoom revealed. Remote work is becoming a unique chapter of the pandemic past.
Or is it?
Let me take you back to July 1965. I had just given birth to our first child in a Westchester County hospital, just north of NYC, and was in something of a new mother daze when my supervisor from work appeared at my bedside. I had been employed as a researcher in the editorial department at Time Inc until that past weekend, and the baby coming a little early surprised us all, apparently including my boss.
She was an attractive woman in her 40s, trim and almost six feet tall, and she supervised some 20 staffers. For a couple of seconds, I thought I might be imagining her, but she pulled up a chair, as if this visit was an ordinary occurrence, and we had the following conversation.
“Hello, Leah, congratulations to you and your husband.”
“Hello, Bea. What’s happening?”
“Oh, I thought I would drive up here to congratulate you properly, see the baby, and ask you if you would like to continue working.”
“What?”
She laughed. “I know you live in the Bronx, about 30 minutes from the office (which was in the Time-Life Building at 50th and Sixth Avenue) and right on the D line (subway). We could bring you the material and the books you need by messenger. Then, when you finish each batch of work, we could repeat the process. For questions, we could call you and discuss by phone. What do you think about that?”
I blinked. Was this really happening?
“I think I will be taking care of the baby,” I offered after a long pause.
“We thought about that. Mia (a staffer in the department) no longer needs her nanny, and she could continue her work with your baby in your apartment. She is from Haiti and speaks little English, but I believe you speak French, yes?”
“A little.” I was now in a different daze.
“Then this could work. You will be able to stay at home with the baby and work comfortably in your apartment while the nanny takes care of your son from 10-6 (our business hours) in the next room. She will come Mondays through Fridays. She is very responsible. She has five sons of her own.”
Then she said those prescient words without knowing she was 60 years ahead of her time.
“You will be working remotely.”
And so it went. A few days after we brought our son home, the first batch of work arrived from the office via a cheerful messenger, and I was set up at a desk in the bedroom to continue my job.
The nanny, Madame Bayard, also arrived and lovingly greeted and cared for our baby until I would appear. This unusual arrangement continued for almost two years. I would return to the office perhaps once a month for meetings and to touch base with my editor of the moment, but otherwise I did indeed work remotely, even from my parents’ bungalow in the Catskill Mountains the following summer. We gave Madame Bayard the time off, and while my mother cared for our son, I worked on a comfortable chaise in the shade of a tree, driving to the office only a couple of times in two months.
This idyllic arrangement ended when my husband finished his residency, and we moved to Texas, where he served at an Air Force base during the Vietnam War.
I finally left the employ of Time-Life. It was now too far for even a messenger to reach me. But today, my grandson and his wife both have satisfying jobs that call for working remotely.
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