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March 2005


One by one, a family finds hope


I remember sitting in the bathroom of our worn-down house and watching my mother do her hair and put on her makeup, thinking she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had an elegance about her that didn't belong in this place. After all the finishing touches, we'd head into town in the back of a taxi and from there only God knew where we'd end up. But it always ended the same way, in some bar in town, mom drunk and the bartender calling my dad to come pick us up.


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