Guestwords

Moving on after the death of my father involved moving, literally towing, his riding lawn mover and all it signified.

That the reduction in nuclear capacity after the Three Mile Island disaster would keep the coal industry alive and exacerbate climate change should have been obvious.

It was with both happiness and a tinge of disappointment that I saw the go-kart my son and I built years ago drive away.

On the occasion of the late Robin Duke being honored by Planned Parenthood Hudson Peconic for her work as a women’s rights advocate, her granddaughter recalls the most important lesson she imparted.

While a prostate cancer diagnosis can set off alarm bells, one of the lessons I learned is that research and knowledge will dispel many negative myths.

A good way to look at tough stretches, rough patches, and travails — as opportunities for positive change.

We need to get the word out to Lyme-infected mothers-to-be and to women of childbearing age who have mysterious, systemic health problems with no clear cause.

A rediscovered letter from 1972 sheds new light on parenting.

Contested Marsden Street in Sag Harbor? As kids we called the area the back lots. Here’s its story.

When the construction never lets up, the rules have got to change.

Adventures with an American cheesecake in Normandy.

A storm of aggressive and sometimes egregious development is upon us, and the East Hampton Town Building Department is unsupported. This is a disastrous combination.

So what’s it really like to take a job as an Amazon driver?

Rediscovering basketball on my street in Springs, I began to lose myself in the joy of just being in my body and rekindling my relationship with my younger self and a ball.

In a newly unstable banking environment, American depositors can thank William H. Woodin of East Hampton for the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation.

How did we get to this precarious situation with Montauk’s water quality? The problem, in a word, is overdevelopment.

As Jimmy Carter is now in hospice care, I wonder what might have happened had his prescient words on conservation and self-sacrifice been heeded.

Thoughts on that road sign that says: Last Exit Before the End of Your Usefulness as a Person.

The passing of Burt Bacharach on Feb. 8 frees me to reveal that he was my first love.

The remarkable story of a man of character who bought his way out of bondage and became a successful landowner.

Love is revealed in a rediscovered box of notes from 1999.

From presidential libraries to art centers, there is inspiration to be found in quiet places that reflect the vision and ambition of the exceptional people whose legacies they preserve.

The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders came in handy when I was terminating my analysis. I recommend it.

As I move on to another chapter of my life, I am grateful that each day I had the privilege of spending my mornings and afternoons with so much life in its early stages, where everything is new and interesting and exciting.

After a rollover, one man has his faith in his fellow citizens restored.

From our correspondent in Pennsylvania comes a tribute to an illustrator for 50 straight years of Christmas cards that are works or art.

A chance encounter with Dick Cavett on an East Hampton beach leads to a long-term friendship. And to Groucho.

Just imagine how much more peaceful the world would be if difficult and/or coldhearted people were walloped with a million daily currents of kindness and love.

Trump’s actions with respect to losing the election, while extreme, is hardly new. Winning is a supreme value in American culture.

With its wide legs, its shapeless backside, its expanding waistline, the sweatpant is the official garment of the borderless, post-pandemic world.