There are moments in most every life, some sort of crisis point, little or big, that can

redraw the map of the rest of time, your time, certainly.

Maybe somebody else's time too.

A moment that lays plain what we're made of.

We're not always aware, of course, as we launch into something stupid or wise that history

will be sent spinning.

But Jaime knew, oh yes, he sure did.

In the failing light of that late June evening, Jaime knew, this was it, this was his moment.

He told us, I thought of the rape, I thought of my rape, I thought of losing her and not

wanting that feeling.

When I used all that in a rage to get yourself angry, to get myself angry, to justify myself,

to blind what I felt was the truth.

The whole plan was to get them outside because that way it would be easier to hide and clean

up.

She told me to get them outside during the night, since he's hard hearing, telling me you're

hearing the pigs, some sort of disturbance, they're waking.

So I go up to a rob, I think there's something wrong with the pigs.

But while I just hear them, they're making all these noises, I don't know if there's going

on.

Oh, okay, I'll go and he got up and he'd go.

I was going to use a falling axe, but I was going to use the hammer side.

I was walking behind him.

...