From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Sight
Gadzooks, the humidity at Coney is stifling, but the news of that poor soul dying of diphtheria right on the crowded trolley has me clutching my handkerchief over my mouth. I see the flashing seaside lights and the girls in their heavy wool bathing suits, but all I can think of is the sickness swirling in the salt air. Even the price of gas hitting $0.10 a gallon feels like a secondary omen of the world going mad as I squint at the grim headlines. I’ll keep my distance from the throngs today; this festive boardwalk feels more like a fever dream than a holiday.