By Camryn Bowden Noah Zaharia, a 26-year-old crisis counselor, sits at his computer in his Melville home office. Three monitors glow in front of him. Then, his computer emits a rotary phone ringtone. It’s an alert: a call for help. Zaharia never knows who will be on the other line. Some callers need someone to listen. Others are seeking help finding services or basic needs like housing and food. Some are in life-threatening crises. As he put it,…
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