Alan Finder, an unflappable eye in the storm of daily newspaper reporting, covered or oversaw coverage of New York City government, education, urban affairs, sports, and international news during his nearly five decade career.  In an often frenetic profession, he found the time to mentor colleagues, maintain a sardonic but never cynical sense of humor, and vitalize what in lesser hands might have been benumbing explanations of why property tax assessments, revisions of the City Charter, and affirmative action goals in granting municipal contracts were relevant to average readers.  He died on Tuesday, March 24, 2020,  at 72.

Alan had complained of mild symptoms of a cold starting around March 7.  When the symptoms grew worse, his internist sent him to the emergency room for a chest X-ray, to rule out pneumonia, and for a coronavirus test.  The X-ray apparently proved negative, and doctors released him because they doubted he had the virus and feared he might be more likely to become infected in the hospital.  His condition deteriorated, however, and he was admitted to the hospital early on March 14.  That evening, the test results confirmed that he had contracted the virus.

Born in Brooklyn, Alan grew up in Valley Stream, New York, received a bachelor’s degree in history from the University of Rochester in 1969, a master's in American Studies from Yale in 1972, and went to work for The Bergen Record in 1974.  He covered local news and projects and served as Sunday city editor.  In 1979, he joined Newsday as a reporter, covering local news, politics, energy, and projects, before leaving in 1983 for The New York Times.  There, he covered news-side beats that included housing, labor, and transportation and served as acting bureau chief at the City Hall bureau from June 1986 into 1987.  Among notable projects was a nine-part series on Mayor Ed Koch, 1987, 1990, and 1991 projects on assessments in New York City, a two-part series on affirmative action in city contracting, and a 1995 look at modern-day sweatshops in New York City.

He also served as a Metro enterprise reporter from 1994 to 1999, sports enterprise editor from 1999 to 2005, an editor for regional news at The Week in Review, and an education reporter from May 2005 to April 2008.  Then he became an assistant editor on the foreign desk.  He retired from full-time work in 2011 but continued part-time as an editor on the international desk of The Times, for The Bergen Record, and at Newsday.

Times executive editor Dean Baquet called him, “A generous and patient colleague.  He was one of Metro’s stars in the 1980s and 1990s, a big writer in a hugely competitive era for New York City news.”  Baquet noted that the Times held a Google Hangouts memorial for Alan that was joined by at least 100 people, many of whom shared memories of him as a giving mentor and friend.  “It's a reminder that the people we write about are human beings.  All of the obits we will no doubt publish, all the tributes, just bring home that the people felled by this thing are human beings with people who care about and love them.”

 Other colleagues paid tribute on Twitter:  “With the morning comes the devastating news that Alan Finder has died of the virus.  Alan was a terrific reporter, a calming presence, and one of the menschiest guys around.”  Kevin Sack
    “I'm so sad to hear this.  He was a lovely guy and a kind, human presence on the foreign desk backfield, an editor who would always say ‘thank you’ even when editing a short daily.”  Rachel Donadio
    “This is devastating news.  Alan mentored so many of us on New York City politics and was the consummate Room 9 reporter.  No one was more decent and kind.  He will be deeply missed.”  David Firestone
    “Man, this hurts.  Alan was one of the @NYTSports editors I interviewed with when I got the job in 2004.  Warm, witty, smart as hell, and incredibly supportive, even after he left sports.”  Howard Beck

Dan Barry, a friend, reporter, and columnist at the Times, said Alan was a wealth of knowledge and that he never condescended when he shared his wisdom.  “He was this embodiment of New York governance and would know about rent stabilization, the city budget, and the MTA – all those bits of everyday municipal life that, when put together, explain how we navigate the world.  Not everyone has that kind of expertise in any one of these subjects, but he had it of the entire mechanism that is New York.”

Alan also used to host a round table on a local TV channel, on which he would talk with other reporters about the news of the day.  Years ago, Barry went through chemotherapy, and he recalled how comfortable Alan made him feel despite his changed appearance.  “He made sure it was ‘Things as normal.’  He handled that with grace, and all my trepidation went away.”

Newsday assistant managing editor for investigations Martin Gottlieb worked with Alan at The Record and brought him to Newsday as a freelance editor on what would become an award-winning investigation of the rise of Oheka Castle owner Gary Melius through Long Island’s cozy political system.  He recalled Alan as “Unflappable and masterful.  He had a tremendous amount of humility and never felt he was better than anyone else.  He was just a good soul.”

Gottlieb said the ability was most evident in the role Alan played on the complex Melius project.  He was initially slated to be an extra set of eyes but ended up as the main editor when Gottlieb was sidelined by a medical emergency.  “Alan was asked to take on a huge, somewhat controversial project, with reporters he didn’t know,” recalled Sandra Peddie.  “And he handled it with extraordinary aplomb.  We all came to appreciate his intelligence, his journalistic smarts, and his sense of humor.  He really didn’t let much rattle him, was so down to earth, and never got caught up in the pretentiousness some journalists have about their important work.  Yet he really understood what a difference we made every day.  The world is a much sadder place without him.”

The series won the Society of Silurians President's Choice Medallion, the New York News Publishers Association award for distinguished investigative reporting, the New York Press Club Golden Keyboard Award, first place in the New York State Associated Press Association investigative watchdog reporting category, and the Long Island Press Club Robert W. Greene public service award.

An online video of Alan’s 2008 appearance as a guest lecturer at the Clinton School of Public Service at the University of Arkansas-Little Rock provides a glimpse of his personality.  In it, he explained that he believed being a good reporter was about, “Being a good translator.  That is, while most reporters are rarely experts in any one field, they do need to know enough to know what to ask the people who are experts.  Then they need to find a way to present that information to their readers in ways they can understand.”

His brother, Michael Finder, called Alan his “Idol.  He had Nana’s integrity and commitment to his family and Papa’s warmth and humor.  I cannot imagine life without him.  Our world – the world – will be so much less rich.”

His daughter, Lauren Drucker, said., “I hope he knew how well regarded and well respected he was by so many colleagues and how many people felt really strongly about him.  His reach was much further and wider than his family realized.  Above all else, he was a man of integrity who lived by a strong set of principles from which he never wavered.  He definitely felt that putting others first was really important, certainly valued family and friends, and really showed an interest in people.  He loved music, books, and good food and wine.  He liked to travel, attend concerts, garden, and work in the yard – even though he complained about it a lot.  He thought of himself as somewhat of a gourmet chef and really loved my mom a lot.”

His son, Jason Finder, wrote, “He was a career journalist who believed deeply in the power of the written word and the urgency of truth – in many ways, the consummate twentieth century newspaperman.  He operated, in both his work and personal life, with a remarkable and unshakable allegiance to the stylistic and ethical standards that defined him and lived with an uncommon integrity, a sharp wit, and an abiding love for his friends and family.
    He gave freely of himself, asked little in return, and found his greatest joys in the simple pleasures of food, music, prose, and, above all, time and conversation with loved ones.  For a man who lived so modestly, the breadth of his reach was astounding.  From the sheer multitude of relationships he maintained over many years and many miles to the level of genuine care he dedicated to each, it was always clear that he lived his life for others.
    Like his own father before him, he humbly embraced the post of family patriarch in his latter years, quietly, and sometimes not-so-quietly, providing counsel and comfort to all who sought it.  Though he was a serious man, he exhibited surprising moments of levity and softened in his older years to reveal a nostalgia and sentimentality that only served to further his character and expose an even more admirable humanity beneath.  He could be long-winded, temperamental, and sometimes a downright pain in the ass, but he was as dedicated and loving a father as they come, and I will be forever grateful for the time we spent together, the many traits, passions, and values we shared, and the life he made possible for me and my family.
    Dad, I hope you’re out there somewhere in your rocking chair listening, sipping some coffee, and reading the paper. I love you dearly, am more appreciative of everything you gave of yourself to me than you knew, and will miss you more than words can express.”

Alan’s wife is writer and journalist Elaine Isaacson.


Compiled from:  Sam Roberts, The New York Times; John Valenti, Newsday; Addy Baird, BuzzFeed News; Joe Concha, The Hill; and Jason Finder, Facebook.

Growing up my cousin Alan was always mythical to me, larger than life. He was about 6 years older than me, the first grandchild, seemed to me to be a beacon of what was to come. I vividly remember coming to Valley Stream and going downstairs to that classic 50s basement rec room. The walls were knotty pine, the floor red and black linoleum, there was a built in bar with a colorful picture behind it with of a parrot made from tiny shards of glass, and a big print of one of Diego Rivera's paintings. We would hang out down there and play with different games that Alan had outgrown,  a treasure trove!
Alan was responsible for me getting Bar-Mitzvahed. I was six again, and attneded Alan's Bar Mitzvah. Afterwards my father, who'd been raised in a nice Jewish family in Brighton Beach as a Christian Scientist, asked me what I thought and whether I would like to do that. I thought about if for a second....let's see, big party, lots of presents, money, lots of food.....sign me up!
I didn't realize at the time I would have to go to five years of extra school but...
People have remarked about Alan's command of detail, the City's housing statutes and history etc. Growing up Alan was the first person I ever knew who knew all the stats for sports, even college teams. Not a jock exactly ( I think he played soccer but that was it), but so into the back story and the lore, which I struggled to have even the slightest interest in.
So I think he has a propensity for that kind of detail from a very young age. Don't know where he got that, please tell me if you know. 
He was at the top of his class at University of Rochester, his parents didn't know till they came to his graduation, then he went to Yale. While Michael and I were as irreverent as possible Alan was always a straight arrow, not square, not unhip, not self righteous to me, but a straight arrow. 
Later on when we were adults we didn't see as much of each other as we would have liked but always was happy to see him. I moved to California which made it tougher but we always stayed in touch.  I flew up from the Virgin Islands for Alan and Elaine's wedding, when I was playing in Manhattan Alan would make sure to catch one of my gigs, and of course he made our wedding and our son Logan's wedding, always there and supportive. When our first grandchild Sonora was born in Bayside Queens and we flew in to see her Alan and Elaine were the first other family members to come and visit the first grandchild of our generation, just days after the birth. Family was always so important to him, I think his dedication to family brought him alot of joy. 
I can't remember ever having a disagreement with Alan (ok there was the finger biting episode, but we didn't fight, at that moment he was a monster chasing us!). We would talk about music, the world situation, if there was a difference of opinion it certainly never got contentious. 
We were family and love and support from Alan was always a tacit, hard to imagine he's not there keeping things together still.

Like so many of Alan’s friends and colleagues, his grade and high school classmates are devastated by the news of his succumbing to the pernicious virus.  It is difficult to fathom.    

I have known Alan since our days in Green Acres.  I recall the Finder house on Forest Road and his bedroom decorated with college banners.  Over the years we stayed in touch by email, dinners with classmates, and lunches in Princeton or Bucks County.  We took more than one tour of Princeton University.  A school-appointed guide could not possibly have known more about the school.  Alan would always arrive early for our lunches, walk around whatever town in which we were meeting, and stop at a bookstore.  Elaine’s and his gracious hospitality extended to visits to their house. 

Our most recent lunch was this past January 10 in Bucks County. 

January 10. 

In 2005, Alan and I embarked on a guys’ road trip – to New England and Quebec where we stayed at the Hotel Frontenac and enjoyed the charm and crepes of Quebec City. I have posted a photo from that trip.  Those were the days before selfies.

Alan's memories and recollections were always far more accurate than mine.  But I recall our being stopped at US Customs at the Canadian border on a frigid evening.  We were driving in my large SUV which was packed with the results of some retail therapy at the LL Bean mothership in Maine.  I was convinced that we were stopped and searched due to Alan’s full head of hair and beard, but he thought otherwise.  We never found out who was right. Our trip logistics included the division of hotel accommodations.  His choices were better.  More than once, he reminded me. 

We covered many subjects on that trip.  As family, friends, and colleagues know, Alan’s knowledge was seemingly limitless.  Good listeners can be difficult to find, He was one.  Added to that was his persistence in completing a story or point.  Alan was not easily diverted, although I would try.

Years ago, I was flying somewhere.  My reading material was an issue of GQ.  The magazine featured a piece with Alan’s byline. When he was covering education for The Times, my daughter was enrolled in a post-secondary school in upstate NY.  The school’s room and board were startling.  I sent Alan an email complaining about the amount I was facing, I received a one-sentence response from Alan, advising me that the New York school’s room and board “…were more than Harvard.”  Gulp.

In between visits and get togethers, Alan and I spoke or exchanged emails.  Daily emails included Henry Gabbay.  Their political and world views were inciteful, accurate, and many.  It was tough to keep up.  And more than once, I thought twice about my grammar and vocabulary when writing to the editor.

Those of us privileged to know Alan and claim his friendship enjoyed his generosity, intellect and geniality.  The public and professional tributes pouring in make me wonder if he could possibly foretell the singular legacy of respect, appreciation, and love he was to leave. 

I met Alan 44 years ago when we both worked at The Record in Hackensack. My wife and I slept on his couch on W. 71st Street for a week after we got back from a sabbatical in India two years later. When our first kid was born the following year, guess who was the first person to come see her that evening at Englewood Hospital? Ten years later, my wife and I and our three kids crammed into Alan and Elaine’s apartment in Park Slope on home leave from Israel.

Alan came to every book talk I’ve given in New York over the years. The most memorable was the first, for a book I’d written about the making of modern Israel. It was 1995 and for some reason I was invited to speak at the Young Israel of Ocean Parkway Synagogue, former home of the late rabbi Meir Kahane, the militant founder of the Jewish Defense League. It didn’t go well. The sanctuary was filled with angry young gentlemen who didn’t seem to appreciate my attempt to portray the Palestinian uprising in an evenhanded fashion. Afterwards they trailed us down to the basement where I was supposed to sign books. Things were heading to a boil. “Please, I can only hear you if you rant one at a time,” I entreated, to no avail. Alan then planted himself between me and several non-fans. He had a commanding presence---six feet tall, arms folded, a stern visage and an Old Testament beard. They seemed impressed. Still, he insisted that we leave early. Needless to say, they didn’t buy any books.

Friends like that don’t grow on trees. My wife and I miss him desperately. He’ll always be in our hearts.

It was my pleasure to attend New Orleans Jazz Fest with Alan and others a number of years back. Alan and I knew one another for years but only hung out for short periods of time at the occasional gathering. As our group walked around the festival, talking with and getting to know Alan was as much fun as listening to the acts. We joked and compared notes on our favorite music through the years. Two old men simultaneously reliving the glory days and being here and now with family, music and New Orleans. I will never forget his openness and intelligence.