It was a quiet Sunday night and I was deep in a magazine article when my wife looked up from her iPad to say, “Something’s going on with your email.” Just then, the phone rang and it was our daughter, Miranda.

“Dad,” she said, “Trump tweeted about your column, but he included your email instead of the column link.”

Oy. Quiet time was over.

Emails were coming in by bunches of five or six at a time, so fast that the screen on my phone looked to be in perpetual motion as the new arrivals stacked on top of those that arrived a second earlier.

More than a thousand would land in the first hour alone. My email address has been in The Post for more than eight years, but the volume was in a league of its own.

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