PROLOGUE
1962
I met my first love on the Dexter bus coming home from school. The bus line ran from downtown Detroit to its northwest side. I’d been riding it my whole life. Today I was coming home from a rehearsal. I was not quite seventeen years old.
This is what I remember:
It was late winter. I know this because the play opened on March 9th—I still have the program. We were doing Medea and I was the star. . .
PROLOGUE
1962
I met my first love on the Dexter bus coming home from school. The bus line ran from downtown Detroit to its northwest side. I’d been riding it my whole life. Today I was coming home from a rehearsal. I was not quite seventeen years old.
This is what I remember:
It was late winter. I know this because the play opened on March 9th—I still have the program. We were doing Medea and I was the star. . .