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Paige Williams

Paige Williams

Staff Writer at The New Yorker

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Location
United States
Languages
  • English
Covering topics
  • General Assignment News
  • Politics

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Recent Articles

newyorker.com

Among the Cabin Fanatics of Mississippi’s Giant Houseparty

A lightly occupied fair cabin sleeps twenty-six; some sleep sixty. Upper floors resemble bunkhouses: bed after bed after bed. The fair is not the place for introverts, neat freaks, sensitives, or anyone who cannot tolerate unrelenting, bone-deep heat. Central air-conditioning is heresy, as is television. Did the fair’s founders watch “American Ninja Warrior”? They did not. Indoor plumbing and electricity are acceptable—fans and window units blow wide open. This year, during the hottest month in…
newyorker.com

An Unpermitted Shooting Range Upends Life in a Quiet Town

Banyai is a fifty-year-old former landscaper from Poughkeepsie. Ten years ago, he bought thirty undeveloped acres on Briar Hill Road, an unpaved thoroughfare in West Pawlet, a few miles from where the historic center—Town Hall, the library, Mach’s Market, Lake’s Lampshades—knuckles onto a bend in the Mettawee River. The property borders a quarry, and Banyai named it Slate Ridge. His patch of woodland was tucked out of sight, at the end of a long, gravel driveway. Banyai liked the “clandestine” l…
newyorker.com

The Crime Rings Stealing Everything from Purses to Power Tools

A booster is a professional thief who typically sells to a fence—someone who resells stolen materials. A fence may buy a hundred-dollar drill from a booster for thirty bucks, to resell it for sixty. Or he may pay in drugs. In sworn testimony before a House committee on homeland security, Scott Glenn, Home Depot’s vice-president of asset protection, recently accused criminal organizations of recruiting vulnerable people into retail-theft schemes by preying on their need for “fast cash” or fentany…
newyorker.com

Not Your Childhood Library

On a recent Friday, Hansen-Miller helped a new immigrant from Afghanistan with some paperwork, then greeted her next visitor, Robert Blood, a skinny, soft-spoken former cook with eyeglasses and a goatee. He had on a puffy jacket and wore a baseball cap over his shoulder-length hair. Blood had been mostly unhoused for about seven years when, last summer, Hansen-Miller helped him land a studio apartment on the tenth floor of a public-housing building downtown, for sixty-one dollars a month. He mov…
newyorker.com

Inside the Slimy, Smelly, Secretive World of Glass-Eel Fishing

Inside the Slimy, Smelly, Secretive World of Glass-Eel Fishing
newyorker.com

The Longest Yard Sale

A road trip through America’s annual celebration of other people’s stuff.
newyorker.com

A Forgotten Eyewitness to Civil-Rights-Era Mississippi

As resistance to integration mounted, Florence Mars bought a camera and began to photograph thousands of subjects, including the trial of the killers of Emmett Till.
newyorker.com

Lake Tahoe’s Bear Boom

The vacation hot spot has been overrun by people—whose habits are drawing fast-moving animals with sharp claws and insatiable appetites.
newyorker.com

Life Among the Bears in California

From the daily newsletter: The animal crisis in Lake Tahoe. Plus: the best jokes of 2024; the asymmetry of the abortion-rights movement; and Calvin Trillin on Yiddish, Litvaks, and the Evil Eye.
newyorker.com

Bourbon Street After the Terror

In the wake of the New Year’s attack, party-hard New Orleans staggers to its feet.
newyorker.com

Gary, Indiana, and the Long Shadow of U.S. Steel

Can a company town that’s been called “the most miserable city in America” remake itself?