Exit Wound

In the late spring of 1999, I walked tree-shaded, brick streets of Alton, Illinois, with my friend, Margaret. It was that season when some days are summer hot while others still hold cooler traces of the passing spring.

I didn’t know for five years that Ringer was innocent. It wasn’t my fault but I still feel ashamed that at first I’d thought him resigned and defeated. But getting to know him was hard.

In his essay “Arendt in New York,” in our Winter 2017 issue, selected for inclusion in Best American Essays, Baron Wormser wrote “She has witnessed rant that silenced every reproof. She has waited for some larger affirmation to arise, the vision of decency, but none came.”