Jeff Schmalz was my advocate in the newsroom — and the first openly gay man I knew. Even years after his death, his influence on my life takes on new forms.
Uncle Billy, the father figure in my life, came back from prison broken and distant. And before long, he was dead — leaving me to wrestle with his complicated legacy.
I had just given birth to my third child and was training for a half-marathon when I had a heart attack. And as I lay in my hospital bed, I could hear the woman in the next room dying.