I made a point of sticking around Spokane once I graduated. I liked that feeling of being a part of something on the brink of greatness, and I wanted to see how the story played out. I wanted to be part of the story. is city had long felt on the verge of breaking through, experiencing an awakening of its own.
I had never seen the two liquor boxes before, sealed with duct tape so old the edges had become brittle, browned and cracked. More duct tape covered the suitcase I recognized as belonging to my grandmother. I had found them buried deep in the back of my mother’s closet as I packed up her tiny apartment after she lost her battle with cancer in 2009.