And even here, even here, in this forgotten world, there was joy. The joy that comes from freedom, a teenage thirst for life outside of rules, beyond reach, without the illusion of security at a time when many boys and girls across the land were learning that illusion was all security could be—when they saw those planes bring down the towers, when they watched the futile shock and awe, when they heard the lies passed off as evidence. I was lucky. I learned early.
