Articles

  • 6 days ago | thepilot.com | John Nagy

    I’ve always believed that journalism is a young person’s business. It takes stamina to sit in tediously long meetings, chase after the reluctant source and be willing to put your personal life on hold in the pursuit of a story. I can think of many instances early in my career where I had no problem with all three. A controversial zoning case in Cocoa, Florida. once began at 6 p.m. and didn’t conclude until a vote occurred around 3 a.m. We all went out for pancakes afterward.

  • 1 week ago | thepilot.com | John Nagy

    Growing up in Maryland, I can remember every spring Dad would carve out a small plot in the backyard for a garden. It was standard suburban garden fare: tomatoes, zucchini, squash, maybe an occasional pepper plant or two. And there’d usually be fresh basil and parsley growing either there or in nearby pots.

  • 2 weeks ago | thepilot.com | John Nagy

    To have children, author Elizabeth Stone wrote, is to have your heart “go walking around outside your body.” On Saturday morning, the youngest half of that heart walked across the graduation stage on the football field at Pinecrest High School. While he celebrated the end of a 13-year journey — begun in the Pinehurst Elementary kindergarten classroom of Meg DeMolet — he was not the only one marking the closure of one of life’s chapters.

  • 1 month ago | thepilot.com | John Nagy

    It’s hard to see photos of your father sucking up to a dictator and one of history’s great kleptocrats. But when you’re a government public affairs officer and part of your job is to give tours to visiting dignitaries, you cinch up your tie and put on your best “right this way, Your Excellency” smile, right? In cleaning out the garage recently, I came across a few old boxes of Dad’s stuff that somehow had stayed behind with me.

  • 1 month ago | thepilot.com | John Nagy

    Having fun is no fun these days, and it sure isn’t cheap. Our monthly entertainment spend is normally appropriated for TV streaming services. But last month my tie-dyed-in-the-wool Deadhead wife brought up the idea, for her birthday, of traveling to Las Vegas to catch one of the few remaining residency dates for Dead & Company, the latest — but probably not last — iteration of The Grateful Dead.

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