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It honestly surprised me when Joseph Speyer started crying. 
I was interviewing the Washington, D.C., father of a 2-year-old and a 4-year-old over Zoom for a story about omicron and children too young to be vaccinated. Though he and his wife were professionals, it was a strain to come up with the extra $1,000 to hire backup care when the younger child's day care was closed for 10 days in December because of a COVID-19 case — and then to do it all over again in January. But they had inflexible jobs, so they had little choice. 
Speaking to me from his bathroom, where he could find a bit of peace in the house, he started out sounding angry. He directed his frustrations at what he considered poor guidance from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and unthinking rigidity at the day care. Then suddenly, his voice broke. The pandemic had spanned his son's entire life, and each day brought new uncertainties. 
"It's the changing routine we've had to constantly, you know, just force them into. New day. Every day. Totally different," he said through tears. "It'll probably be lost in the river of stuff that they've had to deal with over the past couple of years." 
Many people have cried in my Zoom room since March 2020, as I've been reporting for NPR and for my book about children and COVID. Parents. Teachers. Children and teenagers. But the emotions seem even more raw now than they were in the early days of the pandemic, particularly for caregivers, paid and unpaid. This isn't just because of the omicron wave. It's the last two years — the cumulative weight of it, the "river of stuff" that father was talking about. The weight is being disproportionately carried by parents and those who care for a living — child care workers, elder-care workers, health care workers, teachers. 
On one hand, we have vaccines. They keep tens of millions safe from severe illness and death. They ease my mind powerfully when I think about my own risk from COVID-19 and my immunocompromised mother's. But pandemics are social phenomena, and vaccination hasn't yet managed to significantly alter this one's dynamics. 
Though some of the fear and uncertainty of the early months has abated as we grew to know our enemy, many of the support systems — and supportive attitudes — that took hold in that acute phase have petered out. The adrenaline has waned, replaced by monotony, exhaustion, burnout. Both parents and professional caregivers have been left behind as the public conversation has shifted from keeping everyone safe to propping up the economy and getting the country back on its feet. 
Deaths in the United States are once again topping 2,000 souls per day. Cancer surgeries are being postponed. Parking garages are turned into overflow emergency rooms. Managers are taking front-line shifts at nursing homes. Some schools have closed because of a lack of staff. Grocery shelves sit unstocked as workers stay home due to illness, quarantines and caregiver responsibilities. 
In the first few months of this, back in 2020, people stood on sidewalks applauding essential workers. Fancy restaurants sent free meals to hospitals. TV producer Shonda Rhimes quipped on Twitter in March 2020: "Teachers deserve to make a billion dollars a year. Or a week." Now, headlines are more likely to be about disputes about school safety measures and threats directed at health care providers. 
The federal government sent all households stimulus checks, and then sent families with children even more money through the re-imagined child tax credit. Some working mothers told me the early pandemic, as scary and hard as it was, was also the only paid time they had ever had at home with their children. 
Today, the stimulus checks are done. The child tax credit has expired. Federal incentives for employer-based paid leave are gone. President Biden's Build Back Better plan and its "care is infrastructure" agenda are stalled in Congress, like a wagon train full of supplies snowed in just over the mountain pass. 
And instead of feeling a renewed sense of solidarity in this time of scarcity, many people seem to have turned on each other. Mayors are lecturing teachers who don't feel safe coming to work. Self-described progressives are attacking working mothers who want to send their children to school. Nurses face belligerent patients who don't believe in the disease that's killing them. 
Alena Zachery-Ross, the superintendent in Ypsilanti, Mich., told me her teachers sometimes spend the entire weekend in bed, exhausted, only to drag themselves out Monday morning. She said this past fall was the toughest semester of the pandemic — not full-time remote learning in 2020, not the hybrid period in spring 2021 when some teaching was in person and some was remote, but under the pressure today to stay fully open as cases rise and janitors, substitutes and bus drivers quit. 
A single mother I know became sick with COVID-19 recently and gave it to her young daughter, because she couldn't effectively isolate from her. Her employer, a private school that charges $55,000 a year in tuition, docked her pay for the two weeks they were quarantined because her sick leave was used up. Federal incentives to offer employees paid leave have expired. 
And what really turns the knife? At the same moment that parents, teachers and caregivers are saying they are more exhausted than they have ever been, that they're out of reserves and out of options, many are also surrounded by messages — from business and political leaders, but also from blue-state, fully vaccinated people in the general public — that Americans are done with the pandemic and the country needs to get back to work. 
"Record job creation. Record unemployment declines. Record increases in the people in the labor force," Biden crowed earlier this month. "I would argue the Biden economic plan is working, and it's getting America back to work, back on its feet." 
But if you have a child under 5 or a partner with kidney disease, if you depend on public schools or day care or if you work in a classroom or an emergency room, that message lands as manically, absurdly cruel and clueless. 
The pandemic has risen and fallen in waves, but the stresses on caregivers have been cumulative, leading teachers to retire and nurses to leave the profession. Those who are left, it feels, have barely had a few moments — weeks, here and there — to uncoil, relax and even start the process of recovery. 
Caregivers, paid and unpaid, are not back on their feet. They are on their knees. 
And where the most vulnerable of us stand, that's where the country really stands. Because the economy exists to sustain human life and thriving, not the other way around. In the meantime, caregivers do what they have to do: They keep going. 
"My mantra is, it's got to get better," Speyer told me. "This can't go on forever." 
Anya Kamenetz, who covers education for NPR, is the author of "Generation Debt" and "The Art of Screen Time."

Opinion

Commentary

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Omicron isn't just another wave. It's a deluge crushing caregivers.

Omicron deluge is crushing caregivers

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Sandi Brewster-walker, a Montaukett Indian Nation official, is an avid reader who always looks forward to diving into another historical novel or a gritty crime thriller by local author Nelson DeMille. 
But throughout the pandemic, this always curious bookworm has also concentrated on another genre that strikes closest to her heart — works that chronicle, celebrate and illuminate her rich and complicated Native American culture. 
In April 2020, Brewster-walker launched The Montaukett Book Club to facilitate and further the conversation about the Montaukett’s triumphs and ongoing challenges, whether it’s involving land rights or recognition that they are very much still here. 
"I tried to think of something that would keep people engaged," said Brewster-walker, who lives in Amityville. "I got a lot of calls because people were home with time on their hands. They asked, ‘Is there something I can read about the Montauketts?’ " 
There is a lot, actually. Dogged-eared works in her home library cover the Montauketts and other Native American communities near and far. "I was trying to keep the focus on Long Island and our local region," she said.
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<h3>A welcoming group</h3> 
While the scope has been somewhat narrowed, the invitation to join the discussion, initially sponsored by the Montaukett Women’s Circle, is wide open. The club meets on Zoom every other Thursday from 7 to 8 p.m. 
According to Brewster-walker, club ranks have risen to nearly 80 members. At a typical get-together there are around two dozen people taking part. That includes Native Americans, non-Native Americans, extended family members, historians, educators, librarians, authors and students. 
Madelyn Miller Jackson, a native of Copiague and member of the Montaukett Indian Nation who’s known as Mandy, moderates each virtual get-together. She marvels at the book club’s "ongoing dialogue about indigenous people on Long Island" and that people from various parts of the country have tuned in. 
Members have logged on from Nassau and Suffolk counties, Brooklyn, Massachusetts, Georgia, Florida and other parts of the United States. 
Jackson begins each hour with an overview to ensure everyone is "at the same space," she said, adding that there is a mix of generations, cultures and education levels. 
She believes the book club accomplishes multiple missions, including representation and promoting Montaukett traditions and culture. "It’s about the exchange of intelligent discussion, bringing up new ideas and sharing time with one another in a fun and relaxed way," Jackson said. "It’s a safe space to communicate."
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"I’m excited about the engagement of the people who want to participate," she added. "I think those interactions are very, very important." 
There’s no official count of how many Americans are in book clubs, but an often-cited statistic ballparks the figure at 5 million. One of the most inviting things about any book club is that even when readers are on the same page, they bring their own distinct observations, insights and questions to the chat. 
That fact shone through at the Montaukett Book Club meeting on Feb. 7, when the group continued its exploration of "The Indian Great Awakening" (Oxford University Press, 2012), a work by Linford Fisher, associate history professor at Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island. 
Subtitled "Religion and the Shaping of Native Cultures in Early America," the book examines how indigenous people "adapted and retooled," Fisher said, during a period from around 1720 to 1820. Beaming in from his home office in Rhode Island, the author was one of the two dozen attendees in the meeting. 
Fisher happily fielded questions and insights from members. Among them: Could you please discuss how local Native people incorporated Christian teachings into their own spirituality? Can you talk about the Green Corn Festival? Why was there a predominating focus on the Narragansett Indian Tribe? And there were more. 
"It's a lot for readers to really take your work seriously, and every time someone does that, it’s a gift to the author," Fisher told Newsday. "This book club has very methodically worked its way through my book, chapter by chapter. Honestly, that’s kind of amazing." 
Participating in the discussion was remarkable in its own ways. "It’s always interesting to think about the ways readers approach what you’ve written," Fisher added.
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<h3>Questions big and small</h3> 
Some questions probed deeply. "If you were a Native American today," Jackson inquired, "after reading your book, do you have any insights or comments you’d like to share from that perspective?" 
Fisher paused and considered his response. "It’s hard putting myself fully in shoes that aren’t that aren’t my own," he said. "But I think I’ve really become … more aware of how many different ways the attempt to influence indigenous communities just kept on coming, and keeps on coming, over time." 
Some queries were easy-breezy and just for fun. Brewster-walker popped a question that has become a familiar one in the socially distanced era granting access to people’s personal spaces. 
"I’m dying to find out what books you have behind you," the club founder said. Fisher slid over in his chair to give members a better view of a bookcase that, he said with a grin, is home to his and his wife’s collections. "It’s a big mix of novels," he told the group, "and there are academic books on the history of colonialism and slavery." 
Brewster-walker considered her own book collection for inspiration to compile the club reading list. 
"They’re all books I’ve read and I loved," she said, adding that she knows some of the authors. She’s a tribal adviser on "Stolen Relations," a digital humanities project Fisher is working on that is all about recovering stories of enslaved indigenous people. 
In addition to his book, the group has read and discussed John Strong’s "The Montaukett Indians of Long Island," Nathan J. Cuffee and Lydia A. Jocelyn’s historical romance novel "Lords of the Soil," Ron Welburn’s "Hartford’s Ann Plato and the Native Borders of Identity," and David Bunn Martine’s "Time and Memories." Next up is Joy Harjo’s "An American Sunrise." (See sidebar.) 
Welburn, who is an Accomac Cherokee and Lenape descendant, is a retired English professor from University of Massachusetts at Amherst. His book viewed the title character, who was an early 19th century writer, as part of the Native American community. 
"I was delighted to be invited to participate with the book club," he said, adding that between "good, honest questions" from members and his answers, the subject was further illuminated. 
Jackson describes the club’s range of reading material as "heady" and acknowledges that materials covering colonialism, occupation and land transfers "may be very dark. But they also shine a light on the intelligence, the confidence and the resilience of Native Americans," she said. 
That point came through for Manhasset High School senior Caroline Owen, 17. She and other Social Studies Honor Society members were invited to sit in on the book club in January. They were given a synopsis and chapter overviews before the meeting. Afterward they wrote reflections on the experience. 
Owen was struck by Fisher’s recounting of the community of Native Americans and conversion efforts by missionaries. It wasn’t a story set in some faraway world, but practically in her own backyard. "This took place very close in proximity to where I live," she told Newsday. 
"I’m very interested in anthropology, history, and the relationship between societies and the individual and how that relates to political institutions on a larger scale," said Owen, who plans to study culture and politics at Georgetown University. 
Long Island history is "so rich," she added, but at the same time "it’s something that’s not largely discussed in the public school system."
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<h3>‘We’re still here'</h3> 
Margaret Ronai, district coordinator for social studies and home and careers for K-12, hoped that Manhasset students would walk away from the experience with an expanded context and appreciation of a culture that isn’t their own. 
"My goal for this is to really educate students and give them the opportunity to get different perspectives. There’s this idea that Native Americans are in the past and we moved on," she said. "It’s still an ongoing issue and just having students realize that is valuable." 
Brewster-walker wholeheartedly agrees that everyone should understand that the Montauketts aren’t the bygone stuff of history books. 
"It’s important for people to realize that we’re still here," she said. "It’s also really important for them to understand why we’re still here — and that’s because we’ve been able to overcome a lot of struggles." 
She could write a book about that subject — and has. Her 2007 memoir, "The Colored Girl from Long Island," chronicles her experiences growing up as a Native American in Amityville. "They called us ‘colored’ then," she said. 
The Montaukett Book Club is the latest chapter in ongoing effort to explore her place in the world. 
"Why am I obsessed about my history? From the time I could walk and talk, my grandfather would tell us our family history," she said. "There wasn't a day in my life that I can remember where I didn't realize I was a Native American." 
"I’ll be perfectly honest," she continued. "I went through periods of my life where I didn't tell people I was Native American." The potential for blowback silenced her. She’s living out loud now — and extending the conversation to Zoom. 
"We have such a great book group and I'm very satisfied with it," said Brewster-walker. "I hope more people will join us."
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Long Island

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Sandi Brewster-walker, founder of The Montaukett Book Club, looks at books in the local history room at Bay Shore-Brightwaters Public Library; her bookbag highlights her Montaukett heritage. | Photos by Linda Rosier

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Linford Fisher, author of "The Indian Great Awakening," attends a meeting of The Montaukett Book Club on Feb. 7. At its meeting two weeks later, the club draws readers from near and far.&nbsp;| Photos by Joe Dziemianowicz; Newsday / Steve Pfost

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U.S. Poet Laureate Joy Harjo's book "An American Sunrise" is the next one&nbsp;to be discussed by The Montaukett Book Club in partnership with Bay Shore-Brightwaters Public Library. | Photos by&nbsp;Carlo Allegri / Getty Images (Harjo portrait); W.W. Norton & Co. (book cover)

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One for the books: Readers gather to learn about Native American culture

Book club celebrates Native American culture on LI

Marge Perry

This dinner delivers that little bit of good news we could all use right now: a simple-to-make meal that packs a wallop of flavor — and still manages to be healthful. 
You can use a whole cut-up chicken if you’ve got dark- and light-meat eaters, or use all breasts or thighs and drumsticks if you don’t. Either way it’s a crowd pleaser with no added sugar or fat. All the cook has to do is mix together a few dried spices, cut up an onion, and maybe cut up butternut squash — although chunks of fresh butternut squash are now available in most grocery stores. 
Aromatic Chicken with Squash and Onions 
2 teaspoons paprika 
2 teaspoons ground cumin 
1 teaspoon cinnamon 
1 teaspoon salt 
¼ teaspoon black pepper 
1 5-pound chicken, cut in 8 pieces (plus 2 wings) 
4 cups 1-inch butternut squash chunks (about a 1 ½ pound squash) 
1 red onion, cut in ½-inch wedges 
Parsley for garnish if desired. 
1. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Coat a sheet pan with cooking spray. 
2. Combine the paprika, cumin, cinnamon, salt and pepper in a small bowl. Sprinkle on the chicken, patting it to help it adhere to the skin. Place the chicken on the sheet pan. 
3. Place the squash and onions around the chicken and roast in the center of the oven, basting occasionally with pan juices after about 30 minutes. Roast until an instant-read thermometer inserted in the center of the thickest piece registers 165 degrees and the squash is fork-tender, about 40-45 minutes. MAKES 4 TO 6 SERVINGS.

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How to make sheet pan chicken with butternut squash

Half Hollow Hills East defeated Brentwood in a Suffolk Class AA boys basketball semifinal on Sunday, Feb. 27, 2022.

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Boys Basketball

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Half Hollow Hills East vs. Brentwood

Photos: Hills East vs. Brentwood boys hoops

Verne Gay

WHAT IT'S ABOUT This adaptation of the 2019 ABC News podcast of the same name charts the dramatic real-world rise and fall of Stanford dropout and Theranos founder Elizabeth Holmes (Amanda Seyfried) and her boyfriend, Sunny Balwani (&quot;Lost's&quot; Naveen Andrews). Founded by Holmes in 2003 when she was 19, Theranos promised a groundbreaking technology that would run dozens of tests on a single drop of blood. She then raised $700 million, but the only problem was that the device was a fraud, and so was Holmes. (She was found guilty on four charges in January; Balwani is awaiting trial.) 
In this seven-parter created by Elizabeth Meriwether (&quot;New Girl&quot;), Holmes and her science team, led by Ian Gibbons (Stephen Fry), quickly learn that the technology is flawed, perhaps fatally so, but she launches a money chase anyway. She also enlists Stanford chemical engineer Channing Robertson (Bill Irwin) who attracts other academic stars, like Rakesh Madhava (Utkarsh Ambudkar, aka rapper UTK the INC). That big money soon follows, and the big names too, including former Secretary of State George Shultz (Sam Waterston), who joins the Theranos board. Holmes and Balwani scramble to keep inquisitive investors at bay, but Wall Street Journal reporter John Carreyrou (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) is not so easily put off. 
MY SAY Seyfried recently told The Hollywood Reporter that she wanted to do this because &quot;I learned nothing&quot; about Holmes from the ABC News podcast or Alex Gibney's 2019 Theranos documentary, &quot;The Inventor.&quot; 
&quot;It’s crazy that she can still be such an enigma.&quot; 
Seyfried's right, but there's always the possibility that Holmes was an enigma to herself, and this series makes that case too. It begins with a young and privileged woman — a teenager, really — who's in a hurry to get somewhere but has only the vaguest idea of where &quot;somewhere&quot; is. She drops out of school, heads to Silicon Valley where all fast tracks seem to end up, with a Svengali (Sunny) to help lead the way. Holmes does, in fact, have one big idea yet no interest in the science behind it and even less interest in blood. (Hers, by the way, runs cold.) 
Meanwhile, Holmes gropes her way forward, searching for an identity, sartorial style (those famous black pantsuits) and voice (the husky one) which will serve as a proxy for the vacuum within. She knows instinctively that she can con foolish old men. Other women are not quite so easy. 
In one of many fine performances here that flash by but have sticking power nonetheless, a Stanford professor played by Laurie Metcalf explains that &quot;as a woman you don't get to skip any steps. You have to do so much work that you take away all their excuses because if you get anything wrong they'll be happy to destroy you.&quot; 
&quot;They&quot; refers to the male hierarchy of the science establishment, and guess what kind of ears this advice falls upon? 
As part of that long tradition of movies (&quot;The Hudsucker Proxy '') and TV shows (''Silicon Valley&quot;) about corporate moonshine, &quot;The Dropout '' does add something new and better still, someone new. Seyfried is so good here that you may find yourself hoping for a different outcome. 
Instead, we're all left with that riddle wrapped in an enigma, or to borrow the famous line, a shape without form and shade without color. To borrow that other line, her Holmes is just another empty suit. 
BOTTOM LINE Great cast, fine performances, consistently entertaining.

Entertainment

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'The Dropout': Great cast, fine performances

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James T. Madore

The state still has about $300 million in grant funds to help small businesses and for-profit arts groups that were hit hard by the pandemic in 2020, Gov. Kathy Hochul announced. 
The governor said about 62% of the $800 million COVID-19 Pandemic Small-Business Recovery Grant Program has been distributed to nearly 29,000 applicants statewide. She urged eligible firms and cultural organizations to apply. 
&quot;To truly recover from the COVID-19 crisis, our small businesses need a helping hand,&quot; Hochul said last week. &quot;It is imperative that we continue to move funding out efficiently and quickly so businesses can get back on their feet.&quot; 
On Long Island, more than $70 million in grants have gone to 2,970 applicants so far, according to Empire State Development, the state's primary business-aid agency. 
The grants are between $5,000 and $50,000 per applicant. 
To be eligible for help, a business or for-profit arts group must have yearly revenue of up to $2.5 million, 100 or fewer employees and show at least a 25% loss in gross receipts in 2020 compared with 2019, according to ESD, which oversees the recovery grant program. 
To apply, go to <a href="https://nysmallbusinessrecovery.com/">https://nysmallbusinessrecovery.com/</a> 
The state has no plans to expand eligibility to include firms with large losses last year or those that opened after the coronavirus struck, ESD CEO Hope Knight told the State Legislature last month. 
Instead, she said Hochul has proposed creating a separate, $200 million Seed Funding Program for businesses that opened in the past two years. The initiative still must be approved by lawmakers. 
Sen. Anna Kaplan (D-Great Neck), who heads the Senate small business committee, supports the Seed Funding Program but also wants eligibility for the recovery grants to be widened. 
&quot;More must be done to get funds in the hands of those who are still struggling to get by. It’s time to expand this program to reach even more small businesses,&quot; she said. 
Last week, the Senate adopted its priorities for the 2022-23 state budget in advance of negotiations with Hochul and the Assembly. The budget is due by April 1. 
Among the upper chamber's priorities is making independent arts contractors eligible for the recovery grant program, not transferring money from the program to another one and $200 million for the Seed Funding Program. 
The Assembly also supports $200 million for the new program.

Business

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NYS: COVID relief grants still available for firms, for-profit arts groups

NYS: COVID grants still available for firms, arts groups

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Aidan Carman talks about recieving the  Army Minuteman Scholarship, during a surprise ceremony at the American Airpower Museum in Farmingdale.


Suffolk

Islip student wins Army Minuteman scholarship

Oyster Bay Town

Nassau

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Newsday

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The ultimate guide to winter dining on Long Island

Igloos, hot chocolate and more: Your guide to winter dining on LI

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Where 'The Godfather' filmed

Sometimes it's hard to envision life outside Suffolk and Nassau counties.

But there are some traditions and terminology from other parts of the country that don't quite sync up to life on Long Island.

What other examples should we have? Email them to josh.stewart@newsday.com.

Things Long Islanders wouldn't understand

What's a Wawa?

No buttered rolls at 7-Eleven?

Where's the Piano Man?

Pork roll, egg and cheese

'Mischief Night'

Bubblers?

Soft serve or creemees?

Going 'down the shore'?

Fish camps

'A blind bird did what?'

Water ices?

How am I supposed to wear that?

Plasterboard?

Grits?

Long trips into the city?

Have a half and half 

My home 'town'?

What do you call these kicks?

Dreaming of steak biscuits

Put it up?

Pizza by the pie

We call it 'soda'

Mustard on what?

Who could confuse the islands?

Your bagels don't hold water to ours

That's 'wicked'

Jawn

'For here' or 'To stay'?

What is a 'green onion'?

'I'm sorry... oh, I mean...'

30 things Long Islanders wouldn't understand

Matt Davies is Newsday&rsquo;s Pulitzer Prize-winning editorial cartoonist.



	Davies is also a children&rsquo;s book author and illustrator, currently publishing with Macmillan imprint; Neal Porter Books/Roaring Brook Press. Born in London, England in 1966, Davies moved to the U.S. in 1983. He studied Illustration and fine art at both The Savannah College of Art &amp; Design (GA) and The School of Visual Arts in New York City. He began drawing editorial cartoons full-time for The Journal News in Westchester County in 1993, and in 2009 started drawing for The Hearst Newspaper Group in Connecticut.

Cartoons

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Matt Davies' political cartoons of 2022

Matt Davies' cartoons 

Climbing

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Dix Hills resident Hope Silverman loved ice skating as a child, gave up the sport at a teen and returned to the ice in 2017. In February, she spoke about skating competitively and training for the 2022 Eastern Adult Sectional Figure Skating Championships, a precursor to the national competition.


Retirement

Dix Hills skater trains for U.S. Adult Figure Skating Championship

Huntington Town

Dix Hills

Dix Hills skater prepares for national championship

Medical students from Stony Brook and NYU LI open letters on match day, which determines where they will go to medical&nbsp;residencies. Newsday&#39;s Steve Langford reports.

News

Health

Match day for NYU LI and Stony Brook School of Medicine graduates

Match day for NYU LI and Stony Brook School of Medicine graduating students

North Hempstead Town

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Complaint: UBS Arena does not have enough accessible parking

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A hodgepodge of stories from this week in the news.

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Cagle

Read various stories from this week's news cycle.

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<a href="/video/newsdaytv-top-stories">Get more on these and other NewsdayTV stories</a>

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Nassau and Suffolk police on Saturday night shut down illegal street takeovers at a Uniondale parking lot and the Ronkonkoma train station, where more than 40 cars had gathered. NewsdayTV's Andrew Ehinger reports.

'Street takeovers' in Uniondale and Ronkonkoma broken up by police

Clarke field hockey player Rebecca Palumbo was diagnosed with Stage 3 Non-Hodgkin lymphoma. She has since beaten cancer and returned to the sport. NewsdayTV's Jolie Katzen reports.

LI teen returns to playing field after overcoming cancer battle 

As the brush fire threat continues on LI, NewsdayTV's Jasmine Anderson gets a look at what firefighters are facing.

Behind the scenes battling brush fires on LI

Jaxson Torres is that 6-3 sophomore quarterback with the big arm and Alec Anderson is that 6-4 senior receiver who's able to fly and jump. Torres sent the ball sailing toward the left side of the end zone, and Anderson came down with it.

Plainedge advances to Nassau IV final

Gov. Kathy Hochul announced a modified congestion pricing plan for Manhattan that lowers the toll to $9 starting in January. Newsday's Transportation Reporter Alfonso Castillo reports.

Gov. Hochul announces new congestion pricing plan at $9

 NewsdayTV's Elisa DiStefano tries sweet and savory pies at Hometown Bake Shop and Youngs Farm.

'I have never seen so many pies in one place'

All six members of the D'Alessandro family have developed their own platforms and brand as SaucyTV.

This LI family has millions of social media followers

A Newsday investigation shows that about 70% of tickets issued by Suffolk County for school bus camera violations in 2023 took place on roads that students don't cross. NewsdayTV's Virginia Huie reports.

70% of Suffolk BusPatrol tickets issued on streets children don’t cross

She's one of many live wedding painters across the Island who have made the popular trend a part of their every day business.

Meet Angelis Vaca, a local wedding painter on Long Island

The bankrupt Port Washington facility, home to 181 senior citizens, is in need of a new buyer after a $104 million sale agreement collapsed last month.

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