My latest liherald.com is my personal take on the coronavirus pandemic:
How strange the past 12 months have been, for us all. Personally, I’ve been holed up for most of it at my desk in my bedroom, papers stacked up around me, my cellphone always at the ready, resting against my computer.
I’m not complaining. I know how fortunate I am during this coronavirus pandemic to be able to work as a newspaper editor from home most of the time.
My two adult children, both in college, Zoom in to their classes from their bedrooms one floor below. My wife, a teacher, works at her school, but on occasion has been called to teach virtually from home.
I can’t help but feel cloistered, hemmed in by my bedroom walls. There’s a world outside, waiting for me, but I can’t venture far very often. So few of us can these days, our lives dictated by the ebbs and flows of an insidious viral invader.
I leave my house in Merrick only for short, well-planned errands — no more browsing in stores — to teach three hours a week at Hofstra University, to take walks around the neighborhood or at a local park with my family, or to report a story.
I’ve realized that I’ve never before spent so much time by myself. I had grown accustomed to the nervous energy of a newsroom on deadline, the constant tapping of fingers on keyboards, the chatter of reporters speaking at breakneck pace with sources on the phone, the sound of footsteps moving hurriedly across a carpeted floor.
Then, suddenly, seated at my home desk, there was only quiet whenever I stopped to listen. I could hear nothing but the faint sound of cars on the Meadowbrook Parkway nearby or, here and there, the howling wind. There was no movement, only stillness.
At first, I felt alone. Then, as the months passed, a funny thing happened: I started to embrace the aloneness. My mind was less cluttered. I found I could think faster, write faster. I became a more efficient editor.
To read the column in full, click here.
