Knowing she could cut through the park nearby and cut what would have been a 30 minute drive was the only reason she didn’t turn back.“At least I ...an finish my podcast” Megan thought to herself, popping her earphones in and pressing play on her true crime podcast.She had made it to the entrance of the park by the time she started to think she should have just driven, goosebumps running up and down her arms. Stepping onto the grass as she entered the park, she felt the wet dew lick at her ankles. One Saturday morning, a couple of weeks after school had begun, I walked alone down to the city library. Using the microfilm reader, I read though the old newspaper accounts of the Westervelt family. It was like a wonderful walk down memory lane as I read about my former life. I wept uncontrollably when I read the accounts of my son Peter's death in the skies over France, and I again relived the agony of that day when I had received the telegram informing me. Peter had been my youngest, my. More

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