When Francesca Montanaro’s school shut down in March due to fears about the new new coronavirus, she had nowhere to go. Francesca’s mother is a nurse working long hours in New York City. The grandparents who would otherwise have provided child-care were old enough to be vulnerable to the bug, so they were out. That meant Francesca has spent the last few months with her dad at his pizza shop in the Bronx. In this six-minute piece from Radio Diaries and NPR, we take a look at what it’s been like to be a bright and typical 11-year-old thrust into a completely different world. She puts pizza boxes together and answers phones. She’s even learned to make perfect pizzas. I found the story touching. It reminds me of the degree to which children used to learn more about the real world than they do today. Even though she won’t follow in the pizza-making footsteps of her father, I’ll bet this will be one of the defining experiences of her childhood, one that she will treasure for years to come.
Unexpected phone call can turn world from happy to miserable
Lori was laughing as she told me something her puppy had done. We were both on our way home after work Thursday afternoon. When I first called her, she was grumpy about the lousy week she’s had, but that changed after a few minutes. She was laughing and happy.
She suddenly sounded mildly annoyed and said she needed to take a phone call from her mother. Her mom had called five times since we had started talking, and that wasn’t like her.
About 20 minutes later, she texted me. She was in a daze. Her mother had been calling to say that her father has brain tumors.
When I called her back, she wasn’t the same happy young woman she had been. Her entire life had just been turned upside down. She still doesn’t know the details, but she’s leaving town first thing Friday morning to drive home — to deal with an uncertain future for the father she loves dearly.
And I’m sitting here thinking — again — just how uncertain our short lives really are.
We can see injustices of the past, but still honor men who achieved
I was just a little boy when Apollo 11 launched on its way to the moon, but I followed every detail.
The space program had my complete attention. I had just discovered Star Trek and I was completely certain that I would one day follow my heroes — real and fictitious — to the stars.
I watched the launch of Apollo 11 with the rest of the world. We all followed the flight nervously for four days. Late at night on July 20, 1969, I was glued to our television to watch Neil Armstrong become the first man to walk on the moon.
I was ecstatic. Next we would fly to Mars. Then to other planets. By the time I grew up, we would move on to conquer outer space. Big things were about to happen. And I would be a part of it.
I recently watched the documentary “Apollo 11,” which used never-before-seen film of the mission. The film was breathtaking to me. It made me really emotional. As I watched these engineers and technicians make this amazing achievement happen, I found myself thinking, “These are my people. These nerds are my tribe. At heart, I’m one of them.”

Briefly: Joy turned to disappointment as I realized there was no one to talk with
Briefly: Unschooling is family-centered learning without classrooms or curriculum
Briefly: Taking control of our thoughts requires rejecting toxic media overload
My books are time machines that tell you where (and who) I’ve been
Ron Paul isn’t a racist, but the old newsletters need a credible response
Regain your sanity by focusing only on things you can control
Feral cats and hurt people both require trust and patience to heal
Urban Meyer’s drunken behavior points to deeper character issues
Group conflict isn’t as simple as tales of good guys vs. bad guys