Washington Post -
11 Sep 2014 22:19
The heavy steel army trunk that moved with my father all his life was still padlocked when my sister and I came to clean out his apartment in Napa, Calif., 18 months ago. Like the black onyx arrowhead collection of his Nevada youth and the Moody Blues vinyl albums, that trunk contained mementoes of a past he could not bring himself to part with.
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