My Father’s Midnight Call Saved Us—But I Wish I’d Never Looked Out the Window

table building a tower out of wooden blocks. His hands moved with the unselfconscious confidence of a child who had never doubted that the world would hold. “Dad,” he said without looking up, “can buildings remember things?”

“What makes you ask?”

He pushed a block into place. “You say they talk to you. Like you listen to them.”

“They do,” I said. “Every continue reading …