{March
17th 1988 (Daniel is 19)}
My hands ache warming
up.
Angela drives
determined.
I turn on “Wyoming Radio”.
All I hear is crop projections, sales of Mrs. Augers junk, and an
occasional cowboy crooner. Then I hear “Today, a Colombian Boeing
727, crashed into the side of mountain, killing 143 passengers. There
were no survivors.”
What were there
fleeting thoughts?(48:365)
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