Remembering Paul on 9/11
The first time I felt truly small and not in control, like the way cities look five minutes before you land in a plane, was fall of my Freshman year in high school.
It was a Friday night and my options were comfortably limited to staying at home and reading or staying at home and watching TV. In a new town, at a new school, my best and only acquaintance was this guy Chris, the neighbor kid from across the street.
Chris was blessed with three brothers and there was always something going on at his house though there was never much food. I learned quickly I could go over there and kind of blend in. And so, that summer just after moving in, I adopted Chris’s family like a stray cat.
Chris, me and his best friend Paul had most of the same classes together. While they stepped into…
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