The last person I hugged, was a stranger. He was a 20-something, 30 years my junior (about the same age as my daughter), just out of college and volunteering for the Bernie Sanders campaign. He stayed with me for a few days in the run-up to Super Tuesday. …

My people have farmed in the rich, silt-laden, flatlands of the Connecticut River Valley of western Massachusetts since the 1920s. In the 1950s, my grandparents built a modest summer cottage on a nearby lake. Throughout my entire life, I’ve gathered with family in those beautiful places. And now, as an…

I feel like I’ve been on an island as the COVID-19 crisis has unfolded. It’s an island I’ve lived on for a long time, in a home that’s acted as a bunker. The bunker isn’t fancy, but it’s adequate. I’ve been part of making a lot of wonderful things happen…