I Taught My Son to Ride and Three Weeks Later I Had to Bury His Helmet

accident. I did not know if that was true and I did not care if it was true.

I put a photograph on the podium.

It was Caleb at twelve years old, sitting on the Shovelhead in the field behind our barn. Mouth open in a laugh. Gap between his two front teeth.

I put a second photograph next to it.

Caleb at nineteen, three weeks before he died, kneeling next continue reading …