Summer Solstice

Twelve years ago I was in the throes of beginning my love affair with DC. I arrived on Memorial Day and visited the Mall with my new roommates who had driven in from Texas. I was attending class at American and working on the Hill and loving every minute of it.



On June 22, 1995, after summer had officially begun, I worked as usual. The staff ass and I were going to go to the office softball game after work, but we were banned from driving by ourselves to Anacostia. Instead, she drove me to my dorm in Tenleytown so that I could change clothes and we headed back to the Hill. We met up with everyone at Bullfeathers (the team sponsor) for burgers and beer. I finally felt like a grown up (getting to drink the beer without having to worry about getting carded since I was only 20) and was enjoying that famous intern nightlife for the first time.



I had to jump on the Metro before midnight (just call me Cinderella) and got back to the dorm within 30 or 45 minutes. I had a note to call a family friend who lived in Alexandria "no matter what time" I got in. Considering she had two week old twins, I skipped the phone call. I went to bed excited about my day and anticipating my mom and sister's arrival the next day.



The phone rang at 7:14 am. I jumped out of bed and grabbed the phone on the second ring hoping not to disturb my roommates. Somehow I knew if was for me.



It was my dad. "Have you talked to Laura?" No. I got in too late to call. "Oh. Well, I really don't want you to be alone." I immediately thought something must have happened to my mother. He hemmed and hawed and finally said, "I hate like blazes to tell you this, but Heath was killed in a car accident last night."



Heath was my high school boyfriend. We had broken up the year before when I was home for spring break.



My initial reaction was actually relief. I was relieved that the call was not about my mom. Things quickly shifted and in those first seconds of summer, the course of my life was changed.



I hate early morning phone calls. They always take me back to those awful first moments of June 23, 1995. As I'm going to the phone, I always think, "Is my life going to be the same after this call? Are these the last few moments I'll have of this peace?" I'm immediately back on that third day of summer every single time.