On a frigid afternoon in January 2014, I boarded a train in Penn Station to visit Washington, D.C. for the weekend. I was just getting settled when, to my astonishment, I saw that the man facing me was none other than the writer I’d been reading religiously the past decade. “This is going to be a little distracting,” I said. “I’ve forwarded probably 200 of your articles to my sister. I consider you part of my family.”