1981. I was 9 years old when it happened. I was over at Jesse’s house after school like I was every Thursday when my mom took my sister to ballet class.The doorbell rang at 4:30. Weird, I thought. That’s earlier than usual.

I ran to the door and opened it. “Moooommmm…why’d you have to come so early?”

Only it wasn’t my mother. It was Mrs. Briggs who lived across the street.

“Where’s my mom?”

“She, uh, she couldn’t make it. She asked me to come get you.”

“Why,” I asked. “What’s going on?”

“Well, she, um…There’s been an accident.”