He asked me if I wanted to hear a story. I said I needed a story right about then. He began with the Roosevelt era, specifically with a wondrous, vigorous, and nostalgia-inducing topic sentence: “It was 1943 and I thought I was dead….” I stood there, trying to make out his broken english. The parts I couldn’t capture I managed to substitute with my own imaginary account, making the story part mine and part his. This photo is my pride and joy.