Journalism in the 21st Century

Edward's cousin worked at Cantor Fitzgerald. I would hear about his cousin's death when Edward came into Barnes & Noble in Westport, where I began working in October, 2001 after my job in New York came to an end that August. Edward was very depressed. He just wanted something of his brother's, wanted to go back, touch the site. I believe he got a sweater of the cousin's. Then there was the time I was wrapping a child's gift. I smiled, "Who's it for?" The patron, stonefaced, told me "her father died in the attacks." *** Moving to New York in 2001, I had a choice of either living in the city or moving farther out into the 'burbs. I chose the latter, but commuted into Midtown Manhattan, where I worked as a real estate writer for Rubenstein Associates. This PR firm happened to have represented, and still does, Larry Silverstein Properties. I had no idea who Silverstein was, but I knew this was all pretty fancy. I also knew that New York w

Those who believe in Fate know it comes in all types: good, bad, and somewhere in between. Yet, fortunes are made on the advice of sages who predict nothing but starlight and roses, a yellow-brick-road of riches and romance into perpetuity--she shows equanimity, and it’s up to all of us to read the signs. Moving east When my regular freelance job came to a screeching halt in the spring of 2001, I didn’t want to give up my dream of moving to the east coast. I’d been writing articles each month for a CBS/Winstar startup, and had been having a ball. My producers were grooming me to come out and try my luck at a promotion. Yet thanks to Ch. 11, that dissipated somewhere between a check that was never cut and my resolve to trade bikinis for parkas. I was leaving Ventura, California. A contact at a top PR company in Manhattan, Rubenstein Associates, told me I was one of the most pleasant journalists he knew. He was so sorry I’d lost the freelance gig, so perhaps he could connect me with his