During his first four years in office, he held a news conference virtually every Sunday morning after the 11 o'clock Mass at St. Patrick's. Still in his ecclesiastical garb, he'd comment on the issues of the day, from peace talks in Northern Ireland to the sex curriculum in the city's public schools. Once, he invited my wife and me for lunch at the chancery, the office of the archbishop on First Avenue. The meal, served on paper plates, was strictly kosher. My relationship with O'Connor suddenly turned sour after I published a somewhat unflattering profile of him in the Times magazine.
Abortion is the taking of a life.
O'Connor maintained that he was not attacking anyone, just stating Catholic doctrine. After that article appeared, he cut me off. He was still a phone call away, but suddenly he wasn't taking my calls. The blackout lasted six months. And so, in 1995, two years after I left the Times, I was surprised that O'Connor still kept track of me, let alone my mother.