The Saturday Evening Post January/February 2019

In this issue, we present a look back at the Great Recession — the causes, the impact, and the lessons learned. Ten years on, it’s easy to forget how hard it was for so many. In the essay “Middle Class Meltdown” (page 35), writer M.H. Miller describes how, in a matter of months, his parents lost their jobs and the family home while he was in college racking up student loans. After college, the immense weight of his debt nearly crushed him. At his first job, he writes, “I would look at the number on my paycheck and obsessively subtract my rent, the cost of a carton of eggs and a can of beans, and the price of [my student] loan payment.” His experience is far from unique. Can it happen…

Diane Selkirk In “Secrets of the Ice” (page 44), Selkirk explores how scientists are drilling deeply into glaciers and ice sheets to reconstruct the history of Earth’s climate captured in ice for eons. “I loved the story of how ice core science was discovered — watching bubbles rise in a glass of whiskey,” says Selkirk about the simple observation that inspired a brilliant idea. “My hope is that same unexpected brilliance, which has solved so many of humanity’s problems, will lead today’s scientists to new solutions to help us adapt to climate change.” Eileen McNamara “We remember her for Special Olympics, but for more than a half century, Eunice Kennedy Shriver led a civil rights revolution for those denied a seat in the classroom, a home in the community, and a job in…

Ice, Ice, Baby! Todd Pitock’s article “Cold Comfort” (Nov/Dec), about spending a night in a hotel made of ice, is so descriptive and chilling that I have no need to ever go to the Hôtel de Glace when visiting Québec. Get me back to Le Château Frontenac now, s’il vous plait. Merci! Bob McGowan Jr., online comment OneGoodMan Great read — “Mister Rogers and Me” (American Pop, Nov/Dec). Where have you gone Mister Rogers? Nowadays we miss your humility and exquisite philosophy — perfect in its sparkling humanity. Gilbert B. Battung, San Ramon, California We were blessed to have Mister Rogers as a neighbor even though it was only by television. Lessons learned by all ages. Lilah Shoman, online comment Mister Rogers will always be a national treasure. When I commented, “Have a wonderful day in the neighborhood,”…

This past year was a landmark year for ordinary citizens in the news. Without the hurricane survivors, student protestors, mass shooting victims, and sexual abuse survivors who agreed to speak to reporters, our understanding of some of the most important issues of the day would be murky at best. By giving firsthand accounts of what happened on the ground — or on the casting couch — before reporters arrived at the scene, citizen sources perform an important public service. But behind every citizen we see in the news is another story — about their interaction with journalists and the repercussions of their decision to go public — that audiences rarely know much about. Occasional glimpses behind the scenes are telling — and troubling. A hurricane survivor bawls out a journalist in…

Yesterday I went online and bought a Wallet Ninja. I hadn’t realized I needed a Wallet Ninja until a week ago, which is when I read that it’s among Amazon.com’s 10 best-sellers. When a company that lists some 565 million products in the U.S. market announces that the Wallet Ninja (imagine a credit-card-shaped Swiss Army knife) is a runaway hit, count me in. Gotta have one. Does that suggest I am an easy mark or weak or lazy? Yes. Especially the lazy part. Like millions of others who routinely shop at Amazon’s sprawling website, I am complicit in its takeover of America and all we proudly stand for: unbridled consumerism. Everyone I know seems to be an Amazon patsy (aka customer). Devotees cut across every religion, political affiliation, and lifestyle. (Some argue…

Last spring, I was at Edward’s Equipment in our town, perusing their selection of mowers, when I noticed a dust-covered snowblower in the corner, forlorn, like a second-string quarterback riding the bench. “I’ll make you a deal on that snowblower,” said Doug Edwards. “It’s last year’s model. Never been used.” It was 80 degrees outside, and winter was eight months away, but time moves a bit faster the older one gets, and I realized I’d be slipping on ice and busting my head before I knew it. So I did what any responsible Christian would do and bought the snowblower, not only for my sake, but for my wife’s, who threw out her back last year shoveling our sidewalk. Doug and I loaded it in my car and I drove it home and…