AP Photo/Richard Drew, File I woke up this morning 20 years ago at about 7:00 a.m., far later than normal for us. I woke up to the sound of my dad telling me to come downstairs with a tone in his voice that was unusual.
I was in seventh grade. Normally, he’d wake me, my brother, and my sister up around 6:30 to give us time to eat and get ready for school. 7 a.m. was around the time we’d be getting ready to leave. Dad told us to sit on the couch. He sat on the edge of the coffee table and looked at the three of us before telling us our grandmother – his mom – had shot herself the night before. With the final word of that sentence, he collapsed on us, crying.
The first part of that morning is a blur. I remember flipping through the TV channels, looking for a distraction. At one point, I flipped right through CNN, which showed a building smoking. Went straight past it on the first round of channel cycling. Came back to it again. People were coming to our house soon. Mourners. A building in New York that seemed to […]
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JD Rucker – EIC