There’s a romance attending on those jobs, the ones that keep things running all night long: it’s part of the fascination of big cities, the sense that something is always going on somewhere, even in the smallest of small hours. Bakers and police and nurses and cab drivers and market porters all belong to that secret city, the one which rumbles along so late it starts to get early.
Throughout the 17 days my newborn daughter spent in the NICU at Lenox Hill Hospital I saw this culture firsthand – at the hospital, on the Subway, and on walks around the Upper East Side and to & from home. It’s an extraordinary thing.
Updated July 30, 2020 by Stewart Mader