I remember that evening in fragments which I can't be sure I'm not mixing up with others. We were at Grandma Kuehl's I remember the adults speaking in hushed tones. I remember my Dad stepping outside. I remember it snowed, that beautiful fluffy soft wet snow and we made snowmen when we got home. I actually remember it being one of the most beautiful nights ever.
I think I remember being told and not really caring in the way that an 11 year old would process news about a stranger dying because that's what he was....a stranger.
I don't know anything about him. I don't know what kind of person he was, what kind of music he liked, if he liked football or hockey. I don't know if he was going to be a doctor, lawyer or construction worker.
Lately, this is what keeps me up at night.
And so begins my search.