Showing posts with label History. Show all posts
Showing posts with label History. Show all posts

Sunday, April 3, 2022

What's in a Time Capsule?

Top, from left, former mayors Ann Subrizi,
Frank DeBari and Roger Lane join current
Mayor Mike Putrino in unfurling and raising
a 100th anniversary flag today.

I posted on Facebook today about the opening event in New Milford, NJ's 100th birthday celebration:


Of special interest to me was the unearthing of time capsules buried behind the flagpole in front of Borough Hall for the town's 75th anniversary in 1997.

What's in a time capsule from 25 years ago?

Among artifacts were aerial photos of the town, and neighbors are already making plans to update those photos today using drones. Also of interest: old advertisements and giveaways from local businesses, the Fall Preview issue of TV Guide, family photos, photos of town events, and a single-spaced typewritten page detailing the good works of three neighbors.

This was signed by Kent Raptopoulos, and it concluded: "You who are reading this in 2022 please pause and think of us for a moment and remember to be a good neighbor and build your own warm memories."

Two things especially caught my eye.


The first was a cigar case, proclaiming "It's a Boy!" It was placed there by current borough attorney Kevin Kelly after the birth of his son.

The other is a baseball signed by Sanjek Korrey.

One of the event speakers said it had been handed to her 25 years ago by a boy who said, "Here. This autographed baseball will be very valuable after I become a major leaguer."

I'm fairly certain Sanjek Korrey will not be on a major league roster when the baseball season opens later this week.

But Sanjek, wherever you are, I admire your spirit. You are an all star in my book.

1920s favorites served at today's reception: Baby Ruth bars and
pineapple upside down cake.

Saturday, March 12, 2022

2 New Books Inspired by New Jersey

Author Fred Rossi reads from "Jersey Stories" last weekend
at Halo Roasters in Springfield.

Last weekend I stumbled into a book signing.

I had stopped for a cup of coffee before heading home after taking church photos in the Springfield area (more about that later).

It was fate.

Fred T. Rossi, a writer and journalist since the 1980s (in other words, the better version of my PR self), was standing in the corner, telling stories about New Jersey.

Fred is the author of "Jersey Stories," published last year and subtitled: "Stories you may not have heard about people and events in New Jersey history."

Here are just a few of the questions answered in his book:

  • What did Mundy Peterson from Perth Amboy do that made history 150 years ago?
  • What was it like the night that Martians invaded New Jersey?
  • What was it like having Albert Einstein as a neighbor?
Of course, I bought a copy. You can too: email jerseystoriesnj@gmail.com for information.


My favorite chapter, "Let's Make a Record," describes what it was like when a teenage Bruce Springsteen from Freehold recorded his first songs. There's another interesting chapter about how New Jersey towns got their names. And then there's a chapter about the Addams Family creator who lived in Westfield.

Right now, in the aftermath of today's bomb cyclone and with "Jersey Stories" as a reference, I'm toasting the birthdays or actor Gordon MacRae, born this day in 1921 in East Orange, and astronaut Wally Schirra, born this day in 1923 in Hackensack.

---------

Now, about those church photos.

I post photos of churches every Sunday on my @foundinnj Instagram account, and I wrote about that as a contributor to a soon-to-be-published book about the Garden State.

The book, "New Jersey Fan Club," is scheduled for release on June 17 by Rutgers University Press.

It's (quoting the editor, Kerri Sullivan, founder of the popular @jerseycollective Instagram account) "an eclectic anthology featuring personal essays, interviews, and comics from a broad group of established and emerging writers and artists who have something to say about New Jersey. It offers a multifaceted look at the state's history and significance, told through narrative nonfiction, photographs, and illustrations."

After seeing the list of talented contributors, I'm immensely proud to be even remotely associated with this anthology. You can find links to purchasing information on Kerri's website.

Anyone who preorders or places a library request for "New Jersey Fan Club" can get a free sticker as a thank you for the support. Simply place an order before June 17, and email a request with proof of purchase to newjerseybookproject@gmail.com.


Thank you, Fred. Thank you, Kerri. You've brought some sunshine to this cataclysmic weather.

And here's to you, Gordon and Wally. As long as we in New Jersey have anything to say about it, you will never be forgotten.

Monday, February 28, 2022

A Dozen Roses for New Jersey


'Tis the cold late afternoon of the last day of the cruelest month of the year. (Sorry, T.S. Eliot, you were always wrong about that.)

A few weeks ago, I posted a valentine to New York City (where I work), and I wanted to end the month on a heart-warming note, posting some love here for where I live (New Jersey).

New Jersey has its charms, and here are a dozen images from February 2022 to prove my point.

First, some perspective: entering the gates of St. Peter's
Greek Catholic Cemetery, off Passaic Street in Garfield, 
and then looking back at the chapel, yesterday at dusk.

Two historic locations after a snowstorm, Feb. 13:
Dey Mansion in Wayne and the iconic red barn
at Historic New Bridge Landing in Hackensack.

Two views of the NYC skyline at sunrise from
an NJ Transit commuter bus: left, stuck in NJ Turnpike
traffic; right, from the Lincoln Tunnel helix.

Two more from New Bridge Landing during a "birthday
party" for George Washington on Feb. 27: left, the actual new
bridge; right, historic re-enactors play music and dance. 

Two artistic reinterpretations of images via iPhone apps:
left, the Vince Lombardi Rest Stop in Ridgefield Park;
right, an AI mashup of an image of the Jersey shore.

One former church, left, now the Art Center
of Northern New Jersey in New Milford, and the current
St. Nicholas Ukrainian Catholic Church in Passaic...
on the evening of the Russian invasion.

Wednesday, December 15, 2021

12 Days of Christmas: New Bridge Landing

The barn at New Bridge Landing is a work of art.

Whenever I've felt the need this past year to escape into another era, I've wandered from my nearby home to Historic New Bridge Landing.

You can read about the park at this Bergen County Historical Society site. As explained there, New Bridge is a collection of historic buildings on a site that served as a battleground, fort, encampment, military headquarters, and intelligence-gathering post in every year of the American Revolution. The historical society lovingly preserves the park.

The society sponsored a virtual event to mark the winter solstice: a balladeer presented prose by Charles Dickens, poetry by Robert Louis Stevenson, and other holiday readings.

It wasn't your average Zoom, but it was in keeping with the unique character of the place.

I love New Bridge Landing because it's not like anything else around its Hackensack/River Edge location. Down a busy street from a strip mall off Route 4, and across the way from apartment buildings, a train stop, and a McDonald's, a distinctive red bar stands magnificently out-of-place, amid a field of cattails.

This is the Ghost of New Jersey Past.





Images from New Bridge Landing in 2021 (from top): the barn in March, a maypole dance in May, "the bridge that saved a nation" in July, and scarecrows in October.

Wednesday, May 26, 2021

A Tree Grows in New Milford

Aerial view of Turtle Bay Gardens
Turtle Bay Gardens, the green courtyard between East 48th/49th streets, 6 pm, 5/26/21.

A tree grows in New Milford, NJ...

    by way of Brooklyn...

    by way of a courtyard garden in Turtle Bay, New York City.

The writer E.B. White used to live in an apartment overlooking that garden. From his window, the author of "Charlotte's Web" often admired a particular old willow tree that grew next to a replica Roman fountain.

In the closing paragraph of his famous essay, "Here Is New York," White referred to the tree as a metaphor for New York City itself:

"...In Turtle Bay there is an old willow tree that presides over an interior garden. It is a battered tree, long suffering and much climbed, held together by strands of wire but beloved by those who know it. In a way it symbolizes the city: life under difficulties, growth against the odds, sap-rise in the midst of concrete, and the steady reaching for the sun.

"Whenever I look at it nowadays...I think: 'This must be saved, this particular thing, this very tree.' If it were to go, all would go -- this city, this mischievous and marvelous monument which not to look upon would be like death."

White's willow, a 1949 illustration.
E.B. White died in 1985. The willow tree died in 2009. And some people will tell you that New York City died at the start of a pandemic in March 2020.

I'm here to tell you that none of these things are true.

Just as Wilbur never forgot Charlotte, White is practically immortal and his words still capture readers' hearts today. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer.

Also, before the dying tree was chopped down, composer Stephen Sondheim and other residents of Turtle Bay Gardens arranged for Bill Logan, a writer and conservationist, to preserve clippings from the willow.

Logan, founder and longtime president of the tree-care company Urban Arborists, planted one outside his office in Brooklyn. The shoot from E.B. White's willow is now more than 40 feet tall, and Logan has donated shoots from the offspring to schools, libraries and parks across the New York City area.

He donated one to me this spring. He just wanted a photo in return. Here it is, Bill:

Willow shoot planted in front of a library

I picked it up in late March 2021 and took care of it for a few weeks. Last Friday a DPW crew proudly, and properly, planted it on the front lawn of the New Milford Library.

New Milford is a Jersey-side suburb of New York in Bergen County. As the bird flies, it's a little under 12 miles between the library and Turtle Bay Gardens.

It's less than a 30-minute drive without traffic, in the middle of a pandemic. But today, the drive took me more than an hour.

My office building overlooks Turtle Bay Gardens, and atop this page is a photo of the view on this warm, beautiful day.

New York is teeming with life (and traffic and noise and energy) today. A storm is approaching. Meanwhile, a small willow tree is growing in New Milford.

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Here's a related essay I posted last summer.

Wednesday, March 31, 2021

Scenes From New Bridge Landing


One thing about New Jersey: A little distance can make a big difference.

On short afternoon walks from my suburban hometown, I pass neat rows of houses and a busy county road, and then just yards away I seamlessly pass into the Revolutionary War era.

Sure, I can see a shopping mall beyond the trees in the distance, and I know there's an Applebee's and Home Depot just down the road, but here -- at Historic New Bridge Landing Park -- an abundance of trees creates the illusion of a time bubble.

Buildings at New Bridge Landing Park
From top: Steuben House,
Campbell-Christie House,
my favorite barn at sunset.

It's quiet here, and in recent COVID days I often have the place to myself and pretend I am haunting it.

You can read all about the park, download resources, hear podcasts and take virtual video tours at a Bergen County Historical Society website. It describes the site this way:

"Historic New Bridge Landing preserves a compelling and scenic fragment of the Jersey Dutch countryside, strategically situated at the narrows of the Hackensack River and famed for its compelling role in the Revolutionary War. Its distinctive antique dwellings, artifact collections and scenic landscapes are uniquely reminiscent of a vanished folk culture, dependent upon the tidal river as a commercial artery and a self-renewing source of nourishment and industrial power."

Here are some images to help you set the scene. The locally iconic red barn is my favorite.

Stop by for a visit some day. See hello, if you see me, or my ghost, wandering the grounds, taking photos.

 
Various images of New Bridge
Various views of "New Bridge," constructed in 1889
on the site of "the bridge that saved a nation." You can look it up 🙂

Oldtime baseball, and other pre-COVID activities at New Bridge Landing
Pre-COVID old-time baseball games and dances.
Bottom right, a peak behind locked doors in March 2021.



Saturday, October 31, 2020

A Dozen Images of Haunted New Jersey

Abandoned asylum
This place no longer exists.

It's Halloween 2020, and as if things aren't scary enough, I'm haunted by a review of some photos from past posts.

In New Jersey, you can't take photos anywhere without a ghost looking over your shoulder. Here's what I mean:

Clinton Road (West Milford)

Clinton Road is the setting of a 2019 movie about the nearly 10-mile stretch of road that cuts through a thick forest in former iron-mining country. Ghost stories abound, and you've no doubt heard a few yourself if you grew up in the Garden State. As a character states in the movie's trailer, "Everyone knows that place is haunted!"

This story in The Record, including the photo here by Michael V. Pettigano (other photos on this page are mine), does a great job in detailing the backstory. As David M. Zimmer writes:

"Tales involve a ghost boy who throws back coins dropped over a small bridge, a phantom car that appears at the rear bumper of nighttime visitors with lights blaring, and a satanic cult that gathers at odd stone structures in the woods."

Devil's Tower (Alpine)

The Devil's Tower is located at the end of tony Esplanade Road. Manuel Rionda, a U.S.-based sugar baron in Cuba, built it in 1910 for his wife, Harriet Clarke, so that she view New York City in the distance.

Legend has it, she was enjoying that view one evening in 1922 when she saw Manuel kissing another woman. Overcome with anger and rage, Harriet leapt from the tower to her death.

As every schoolgirl at nearby Academy of the Holy Angels (both my daughters are graduates) will tell you, if you drive or walk backward around the tower three times, you see the ghost of Manuel's wife. Another version of the legend states that, visiting there, you might also find yourself face-to-face with the actual Devil.


Devil's Tree (Bernards)

Here's what Weird New Jersey has to say:

"This is one sinister looking tree, and according to the locals, who told us of its legends, everyone in the vicinity of Bernards Township seems to have a story about it.  They say that at one time a farmer killed his entire family, then went to the tree to hang himself. According to some, numerous suicides and murders occurred around the evil arbor. Supposedly anyone who tries to cut down the tree comes to an untimely end, as it is now cursed. It is said that the souls of those killed at the spot give the tree an unnatural warmth, and even in the dead of winter no snow will fall around it.

"We noticed evidence that many attempts had been made over the years to fell the unholy oak, but all have failed. The tree stands all alone in the middle of a large field off Mountain Road. Its trunk has been severely scared by axes and chain saws, some wounds appearing to be quite old. Why no one has yet been successful in toppling the timber we cannot say for sure. Nor do we know what has become of those who have tried."

Bernardsville Library

Not far from the Devil's Tree is the old (and former) library in Bernardsville. It used to be the Vealtown Tavern, built in the 1700s.

Phyllis Parker, the tavern owner's daughter, has been rumored to haunt this building ever since. Librarians claimed to have seen her or heard her crying so many times, they issued her a library card.

The historic marker, which looks like a tombstone, states, "By this route, Washington with his army retired to Morristown after his victory at Princeton, January 1777 -- erected by the DAR."

Hermitage Museum (Ho-Ho-Kus)

Built in the 1840s in Gothic Revival style, this site is Bergen County’s first National Historic Landmark. Guests of the original estate included a who's who of Revolutionary War heroes, and Aaron Burr was married there.

According to a story in The Record, tour guide Craig McManus reports that lights and motion detectors have gone on unprovoked, and a woman has been seen in the upstairs window. "We think there are about four or five spirits in the house," he said. "The house itself is kind of a paranormal hot spot."

The Hermitage has been known as a ghost house since at least 1917, when Bess Rosencrantz and her niece opened a popular tea room there. The tea room operated for about 15 years. Its haunted tales made newspaper headlines as far as North Dakota.

Easton Tower (Fair Lawn)

Here's what Hauntedplaces.org has to say:

"Easton Tower is a stone and wood frame structure, once an irrigation pump, built in 1900 as part of a scenic park. It now abuts the Saddle River Bikeway. It was named after Edward D. Easton (1856-1915), founder and president of the Columbia Phonograph Company. It is sometimes mistakenly called the Red Mill because in the early 1800s a mill nearby was painted red, and many mistook it for the Easton Tower.

"Residents who live near the tower say strange noises come from the building at night, and at least one witness saw a white apparition at the window."

Red Mill (Clinton)

This is a photo of the Hunterdon Art Museum, across Clinton Falls from when I stood at iconic Red Mill. You don't need to see another photo of that! As Only In Your State explains:

"Clinton's famous Red Mill is often hailed as the most photographed building in New Jersey. While there's no way to track that data, it has been featured in numerous films, calendars and advertising campaigns. Today, it's a charming museum and popular wedding venue… but it has quite a dark past.

"[Some] say the spirit of a young girl whose father worked at the mill often comes to visit. A verified tale involves the tenant house on the property -- documentation shows a death by heart attack. Guests have reported hearing footsteps in vacant areas of the tenant house, objects moving with no clear cause throughout the property and even seeing a man on the third floor of the mill. Many have mentioned the authentic period re-enactor on the third floor -- but the mill does not employ period re-enactors."

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Finally, here are three haunted places from in and around the town where I grew up. This isn't counting the abandoned asylum (photo at the top of this post), which has since been completely leveled and is now a construction site. Never mind. I have no doubt it will soon be an addition to my list of haunted places.

Dey Mansion (Totowa Road, Wayne)

Every time I've visited here recently after stopping by Mom's house, the place has been closed. Blame the pandemic. Or maybe it isn't closed and it's filled with visitors, and I'm one of the ghosts haunting the site!

Here's what the Try to Scare Me site has to say: "Built in the early 1700's by Dirck Dey, the Dey Mansion (pronounced Die)... served as headquarters for Washington twice. [He] returned to the mansion after learning that Benedict Arnold betrayed the Americans. It was said that Washington battled his own ghosts and internal battles during his stay after this devastating news.

"There are numerous rumors of visions that appear on the road and grounds. Late at night while drivers pass the mansion, they might come across the ghostly apparition of a soldier."

Annie's Road (Totowa)

Annie is the ghost of a teenager, dressed in white, killed by a pickup truck as she tried to find her way to safety along unlit Riverview Drive. She fled her boyfriend's car after an argument on Prom Night.

All the locals call this stretch of Riverview Drive "Annie's Road," and roadside memorials keep her legend alive. A Halloween tradition is to spill red paint on the blacktop and guard rails so that drivers will think they see Annie's blood.

Annie's Road snakes behind a cemetery and bypasses an alcove of small homes called, with no pretense of political correctness, Midgetville.

Laurel Grove Cemetery (Totowa)

There are over 96,000 people buried in Totowa, a borough with a population of only 11,000 living souls. Following the Passaic River north on sharply bending Annie's Road, right past "Dead Man's Curve," is Laurel Grove Cemetery, where Dad is buried.

Reading a paranormal investigator's adventures at the site reveals quite a few "orb photos" (circles of light seen only on film) in images of the mausoleums and at various locations on the cemetery grounds.

In visits here, I'm mostly taken by the assortment of odd and curious gravestones and monuments. You can see one while passing through town on the highway -- a large, majestic elk on a bluff overlooking Route 80. Perhaps the most unique gravestone there belongs to Sal Giardino, the "World's Greatest Electrician."



Wednesday, September 9, 2020

19 Years Later, 9/11 Remembered

Empty Sky Memorial in Jersey City
Empty Sky Memorial, Liberty State Park, NJ, 2020

This year I've again updated a Pinterest site of photos and stories recalling my former Verizon colleagues and their heroic response to 9/11. You can reach it at https://www.pinterest.com/bvar/verizons-response-to-911/ .

Newly added is a booklet from 2005 about the history and recovery of 140 West Street, the old headquarters building that was severely damaged at Ground Zero... and from which workers snaked temporary cables from open windows to get the New York Stock Exchange up and running just days later, beginning our national recovery.

Here are links to a half dozen related posts here (from most recent to oldest):

I hope you can make sense of it all.

Even 19 years later, I can't.


Monday, May 25, 2020

Some Good News: New Milford NJ Edition

New Milford NJ
No, this isn't a Zoom meeting;
it's nine of more than 200 signs of appreciation around town. 

Among things I'm missing this cloudy Memorial Day weekend (besides some more sunshine) is another of John Krasinski's inspiring "Some Good News" reports.

Scrolling through my recent photos, though, I realize I don't need to look online for inspiration. It's been all around these past two and a half months in my own home town.

So now for some good news, New Milford NJ edition:

Let's start things off with this video of Gov. Murphy citing the efforts of a local high school student who sold lawn signs to purchase food this month for workers at local hospitals, the New Milford Volunteer Ambulance Corps, the New Milford Volunteer Fire Department and the CareOne New Milford assisted-living facility.



That's just the start of the good news. There are so many examples of good works around town... from food drives to the heroic efforts of healthcare workers, volunteers and small business owners... that a blog post can't capture all the detail.

Instead, here's a link to a Pinterest board with stories, photos and videos from around New Milford since the lockdown in March. There are more than 50 pins here that celebrate life in New Milford in the age of COVID-19.

I especially love the photos of all the signs filled with appreciation and hope, the marriage photos, and the great journalism from reporters and photographers at northjersey.com and nj.com. Two examples of those stories this month:
  • "Public service runs in the family for New Milford mother and daughter helping during pandemic"
  • "Miracle recovery for high-risk teen in hospital for 26 days"

There's also a video of a mayoral proclamation for Mother's Day, read by a collection of local families.

As of this morning, the NJ Department of Health reports 436 confirmed COVID-19 cases in our town of about 16,500.

Behind each case is a neighbor, supported by dozens of first responders and healthcare workers and family members. Also, thousands of prayers.

Memorial Day

There were more prayers just this morning in front of Borough Hall, as New Milford observed Memorial Day.

Even without a traditional parade, local heroes were honored. Signs with photos and biographical information for each fallen service member were unveiled on the borough hall lawn. The project is a joint effort of the Historic Preservation Commission and the Public Events Committee in observance of Military Appreciation Month. Signs will be displayed until May 31.

If you are unable to see the display in person, there's a video of it below, and the Historic Preservation Commission will post a profile of a war hero daily until May 31. Additionally, a slide show about New Milford’s military heroes, "The Stories Behind the Stars," can be viewed here on the historic commission's page on the borough's website.





That's all for now. I'm going to go outside. The sun has come out, and the weather... uh... looks pretty good.

Monday, May 18, 2020

Here Is (a Fourth) New York in 2020

St. Patrick's Cathedral
St. Patrick's on Sunday morning.
Click here to hear its bells ring on May 17, 2020.

On Saturday, I returned to New York City for the first time following a 9-week Quar time absence. 

The New York Times had just posted this story: "Where New Yorkers Moved to Escape Coronavirus." Statistics showed mail-forwarding trends from people who have fled the city.

First Avenue
Looking south on First Avenue,
Beekman Tower (Ophelia on top) blocking the U.N.
On Saturday, I was heading in the opposite direction -- a quick car trip into Manhattan from my home in New Jersey, to pick up my daughter who needed to be somewhere that evening, returning on Sunday morning.

Most of those who had fled New York had been living in upscale neighborhoods on the Upper East and West Sides of Manhattan. I saw the evidence of this on my drive: no traffic, no tourists.

My route took me past my workplace on the East Side, where everything on my desk is likely just as I left it Friday, the 13th of March. Back then, I expected everything to be back to normal (the commute, the tourists, the office) on Monday morning, March 30. Today, I hope to be back at my desk, and expect everything to be very different, sometime before the end of the year.

E. B. White's "Here in New York" once described people who account for three New Yorks.

First are those who are born there. I can never claim that.

Second are the commuters. That's my ordinary self.

Third are those who were born somewhere else but who come to New York in quest of something. That's who I am when I'm my best self.



Times Square, Sunday morning, May 17, 2020.

In White's words, the third city "accounts for New York’s high-strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements."

E. 50th, the weekend after Irving
Berlin's 132nd birthday (he lived
at the end of the block).
That's why I look forward to coming back to New York to work. That's why I'm so proud my daughter lives there. That's why I stepped out of my car to capture these images.

Of all the people I read about in The New York Times on Saturday, I most admire Roman Suarez, who lives in the Bronx.

Mr. Suarez is a fourth New York. He's worth the whole damn bunch put together.

Here is what The Times wrote about him on Saturday. Here is New York in 2020:

He picks up medication and groceries for about three dozen family members who live nearby. "I just stayed and made myself available for my family," he said.

His neighbors, many of whom work for the city, or in health care, stayed too, he said. His neighborhood, just east of the Bronx Zoo, had fewer than a quarter as many mail-forwarding requests as the Upper East or Upper West Sides.

"My father was a cab driver. My mom was a hairdresser, so I understood service to your community," Mr. Suarez said. He recalled living through other challenging times in the city, from Hurricane Gloria in 1985 to the Sept. 11 terror attacks in 2001. "Whenever New York goes through stuff, the best thing to do is just be there."


Grand Central Terminal
My last photo before leaving New York City in March --
Grand Central Terminal.


Sunday, April 5, 2020

A Change in Perspective: New Jersey from Above

High above Fair Lawn, NJ, on March 2, before the proverbial flood

It's stunning how perspectives have changed over the past few days.

Here, for example, is NewYorker TV critic Emily Nussbaum yesterday on Twitter:


I am particularly haunted by recent views of my home state from drones above nearly deserted places, such as Jersey City:



Paterson and Newark:


Hoboken:



And Montclair:



Even more disconcerting, here's a March 20 video from NBC News showing the long line of cars waiting at a drive-through coronavirus testing area in Paramus:




These God's-eye views of my home state are reminders that life is at once more complex, absurd... and sometimes inspiring... than what we can immediately understand from our own, limited perspective.

How is it absurd? Turning to social media for some connection, my experience has been mixed.

First, I read a thread from Fr. Jim Chern, the Newark Archdiocese's director of Campus Ministry and chaplain at Montclair State University. I know him as thoughtful and devout, with a great sense of humor. Recently attacked by trolls, he felt compelled to respond: "My exposure to 'Catholic Twitter' is, as it turns out, thankfully limited. Kind of stunned at the judgmental and harsh tone: I was accused of abandoning our people because we've been ordered not to publicly celebrate sacraments. It was below the belt, untrue and uncharitable."

Then I joined a Twitter chat about "how to be professional on Twitter during a crisis." One of the guest expert's first posts was this:


"That's it," I exclaimed to no one. "I'm out!"

I drove to Mom's house to deliver some supplies.

The local nursing home; Borough Hall; graffiti along Route 80
Normally a 25-minute drive to Totowa, it took 20 minutes in sparse traffic. It would have taken even less time, but several local streets were blocked by landscaping crews hard at work -- as if Gatsby had dispatched a legion of gardeners to prepare our modest town for a lavish "it was only a bad dream" party.

On the highway, the cars on Route 80 were overly aggressive or overly cautious -- as if caught in an imaginary snowstorm. Mask-wearing drivers were filled with bravado, nerves or fear.

On the return trip through Paterson, I noticed the new graffiti on one of the highway's sound barriers. It's a rendering of the word "CORONAVIRUS."

Back home, my grown daughter asked if we could go for a walk. Some exercise; some diversion.

It was dusk, and our surroundings humbled us. Church doors were locked. The large American flag had been lowered to half-staff in front of Borough Hall; in back, lights were ablaze to discourage teens from gathering in empty playgrounds and ball fields.

Everything had subtly changed, except that the liquor store was still open. Then an ambulance approached the local nursing home, where the virus had already caused at least five deaths.

The ambulance arrived with lights flashing, but no sirens. My daughter explained to me that this likely meant someone else had died.

We walked on in silence after that. We didn't know what to say.

Churches closed; liquor stores open
Later, my daughter and I watched an on-demand movie, "The Invisible Man." It was a makeshift "movie night" like the ones we used to have when she was a little girl. As we watched, she discovered on her iPad that the movie was based on a book, and I explained to her about H.G. Wells.

Before going to sleep Saturday night, I returned to social media on my own iPad to check on the health and safety of family and friends on Facebook and Instagram. I've been happy to see their faces, and the faces of coworkers, on recent video chats.

I woke up and read The New York Times with over 100 others by logging in to the "readalong" hosted every Sunday morning by Sree Sreenivasan. His engaging guest was the author Harlan Coben, and you can view a replay here.

So, in fairness to social media, I have in fact found some comfort there.

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I wonder, after all, what the God's eye view of my family is really like.

Perhaps it's a view from above of two people walking down River Road in New Milford, NJ, before dusk: a dad and his daughter.

There's no way to tell, from such a distance, how grateful and lucky we are. How much we love each other. Or how our journey will end.

After a while, the drone would simply move on, and the perspective changes again.

We too become invisible.

April 3, 2020 - video here