Good Morning
Good Morning

Making a pitch for season opener

Director of the National Institute of Allergy and

Director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases Anthony Fauci during the daily briefing on the novel coronavirus in the Brady Briefing Room of the White House on April 22, 2020. Credit: AFP via Getty Images/MANDEL NGAN

Memo to Yankees owner Hal Steinbrenner: What better way to celebrate the eventual opening of the baseball season than to invite lifelong Yankees fan and America’s current hero Dr. Anthony Fauci to throw out the ceremonial first pitch.

Norman Geller,

East Norwich

Make parkway path safe for bikes

The state’s Ocean Parkway Shared-Use Path will open soon. This bicycle route is being built a few feet north of Ocean Parkway, one of Long Island’s most scenic and heavily traveled parkways. Ocean Parkway is also well known by almost every Long Islander, including law enforcement and public officials, as a racing mecca for high-speed car and motorcycle racers. Path users could be as close as six feet from vehicles that often hit more than 100 mph. No traffic barrier can withstand those speeds.

I plead to delay the opening of the shared-use path until the State Department of Transportation and the State Police can formulate a strategy and solution to protect the users of this path before we are faced with tragedy. An effective start would be to increase funding for the State Police that patrol Ocean Parkway, providing permanently assigned patrol cars. Ideally, speed cameras and plate readers would be installed to track, and ultimately stop, this racing with impunity that has been going on for years. It’s time.

John R. Brooks,


Memories are best if left alone

It had been more than 40 years since I had last seen my parents’ summer home, where I had spent the hot months of my youth growing up, in Sound Beach. It was a magical place, a large bungalow with two screened-in porches. Outside was a large garden with tomatoes, string beans, squash, and such. The spacious backyard was wild with trees, uncut grass and, alas, poison ivy. I also remembered a chinning bar and hammocks — a young man’s paradise.

As I drove up and approached the area of my recollection, I had butterflies in my stomach. I stopped and looked for quite a while. Was this the right house? This small, green bungalow, with no trees and just a manicured lawn.

Where was my wilderness, my trees, my chinning bar — even the poison ivy was gone? Saddened, I started my car and, with a huge sigh, drove off. Memories of youth should remain memories.

Daniel Palermo,