Last July, flakes of ash were falling from the sky. Sung stepped outside my grandparents’ garage and tiny crumbles of gray drifted across his forehead. The air was heavy with smoke. Since I grew up in Northern California, I’m used to the effects of fire season. But Sung is from New Jersey so he was shocked. The timing was eerie: just last night he had told me that he wanted to be a firefighter.
(Here is Part 1 of this story.)
Continue reading