Saturday, September 11, 2021
When Bobby McIlvaine died on September 11, 2001, his desk at home was a study in plate tectonics, coated in shifting piles of leather-bound diaries and yellow legal pads. He'd kept the diaries since he was a teenager, and they were filled with the usual diary things -- longings, observations, frustrations -- while the legal pads were marbled with more variety: aphoristic musings, quotes that spoke to him, stabs at fiction.
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