I loved “Welcome back, Kotter.” It was a show about Brooklyn public school kids that ran when I was a Brooklyn public school kid, it was populated with what I later realized were Jungian archetypes of Brooklyn high school kids (and teachers), and some of its best characters were people you never saw onscreen.
Like Epstein’s mother.
Is there anyone in New York who does not remember what they did that day?
A few minutes after nine in the morning, as I drove to Brooklyn Hospital, I rounded the curve on the Belt Parkway where it sweeps past Owl’s Head Park and came face to face with a column of smoke. The traffic was moderate, many cars having pulled over, drivers and passengers watching in shock. I drove on.