“I sat by the lake in the morning, eventually meandering through the city to a bakery and buying a loaf of good bread for my friend. Still self-consciously on vacation, determined to have a good time, pretending I was in Europe, I sat down at one of the bakery’s long wooden tables with an espresso, a croissant and Charles Bowden.”
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“Busan, this vital port city of four million of working-class grit was transforming into a posh metropolis with glass apartment towers eighty floors above the marina below. A welcoming Seoul by the sea on the southeast coast.”
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“Joe. I met him at the end of the 1970s, under 57th Street, at a gay dance club, Ice Palace. He lied about his age to almost everyone, as far as I know, saying he was 18 in the period before the legal age for drinking was raised to 21. In truth, he was 16, but looked older. Whatever that means.”
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“It was customary to serve the men. Young girls learned the skills of homemaking before learning to read. They were very principled and unwavering in their conviction.”
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“I hate pastor-led funerals. Why can’t I tell us about you, myself? I have better words for you than he ever will. I knew you. I have many memories of you…I’m sure of it.”
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“In an alternate timeline, I get to meet my father. I listen to his voice, his laugh, watch how he moves through the world. He meets my sons. I meet all of my siblings and hear family stories. I am welcomed home.”
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