The Captain Knew Me Before the Passenger Did

Maybe twice. He had a wedding ring and the kind of tan pilots get from cockpit glass.

“Tell me about your son,” I said.

He pulled out his phone and showed me a picture of a lanky teenager in a marching band uniform holding a trumpet like it had personally insulted him.

“Fourteen,” Warren said. “Hates photos. Loves the trumpet. God knows why.”

“And he knows continue reading …