Jenna asked me to photograph her beneath the arch, just as Dad had done every April. My mother also called that night. She admitted she had spent years allowing Aunt Celeste’s judgment to make her ashamed of our father’s profession. She apologized and asked whether I had any dogwood flowers left. I told her I had two extras.
On October 4, I arrived wearing a new suit Dana had chosen, but I didn’t hide my scarred hands. Harlan welcomed us personally and introduced me to his brother Walt, who thanked me for my father’s sacrifice. Before the ceremony, I photographed Jenna beneath the steel flowers. Mom wore one of the extra dogwoods as a brooch, and Jenna placed the other in her bouquet. Everything felt peaceful again. But during the reception, Harlan stood up, raised his scarred hands, and announced that he wanted everyone to hear a story about a man named Earl Dalton.
THE STORY CONTINUES ON THE NEXT PAGE… 👇👇👇
