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Sep. 4th, 2004

I'm glad I had a nice weekend last weekend. Because tonight I have not been feeling well. A friend of W's invited A to his 17th birthday party. I went up to W's room to see if I could find something that belonged to W to give this young man, since they were such very good friends. I couldn't find anything appropriate, and being there made me very melancholy. I opened a bag, and found the clothes that had been torn away from his body in a desperate attempt to save his life. I hugged some of his stuffed animals and sat on his bed. I saw his Boy Scout shirt, washed for a young man who will never wear it again.

We took A to the friend's house. As we drove away, I couldn't help but think how W would have loved to have been there. His friend had been living in Arkansas, and just recently came back to live in Plano. W never knew, and he will never turn 17 this month on the 25th.