You’re looking at a photograph of my son John holding his daughter Emma. They’re on the rooftop of their Manhattan apartment, on the south side of 15th Street, between 7th Avenue and 8th. It’s a pleasant fall evening in 1997, and my wife and I are visiting from St. Louis. Emma is ten months old.
But maybe you aren’t looking at John and Emma. Your eyes probably focus instead on those two gray monoliths in the background. Before it means...
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