in memoriam

sketchbookthought

she pulled the coat a little tighter around her on that cold March day, as Tennessee held onto winter as long as possible. occupying the passenger seat, her eyes scanned out the windows taking in unfamiliar territory as mother drove them across several counties. her nerves gradually, quietly began to rattle as the car neared their destination; she’d never interviewed anyone, especially not a ninety year-old man or for thirty percent of her college US History grade. when she had found he fit the category of the project, she was outwardly happy and inwardly anxious. moons before, in 1941, as a gangly 18 year-old, he shipped off into the Pacific arena to fight a war, and he was her step-great-grandfather.

the little family hurried inside out of the cold, only to be welcomed by dimly lit corridors and faded olive-colored walls as unpleasant smells drifted above their heads. she frowned…

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