We didn't see each other all that much over the past few years, but I had my hopes you'd break free of your chains. It might be over twenty years ago, but I'll always remember that filthy C.O.C. shirt, your seemingly forever broken arm, climbing the Brooklyn Bridge for the view to end all views, trading in 40s for more 40s, and all those ridiculous 'field trips' to the city with the crew. Suicide Hill sledding, U.T.B. parties, Squib Park, the courthouse steps, hanging in the King and on the corner; too many afternoons and nights on the corner...
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