 Now, this is not at all true of your work or the times today, but it used to be a long-standing joke that in the obituaries' pages women and black people never die because there was an emphasis on white males, say, 30, 40 years ago. But remember, think about what an obit is. It is not only the most narrative genre in the paper, it is the most retrospective. We are writing about the movers and shakers who made our world. I think of obit's writing as the act of looking through a sliding window onto the past, the kind of window that slides back along the rails of time. And when I first started the job in 2004, we were writing overwhelmingly about the people on either side of World War II. We edged up into the Cold War. We're now writing about the Vietnam and the civil rights era. And no matter how we feel about it in light of modern sensibilities, the stark reality of our world is pretty much the only people who were allowed to be actors on the world stage in the 1940s, 50s, who were overwhelmingly white men. I'm happy to say that in the 12 years I've been doing this job, as that window has slid up into the civil rights era and even the women's movement, that page of ours has started to diversify. I had the great privilege, for instance, of writing our page one obit of Betty Friedan, knowing full well that it had not been for her writing the Feminine Mystique in 1963 and launching the modern women's movement, I would very likely not be in the newsroom of the New York Times writing a page one story.