Hi, it's Terry Gross, host of Fresh Air. Hey, take a break from the 24-hour news cycle with us

and listen to long-form interviews with your favorite authors, actors, filmmakers, comedians,

and musicians, the people making the art that nourishes us and speaks to our times.

So listen to the Fresh Air podcast from NPR and WHYY. This is a serialized story.

So if you haven't yet, we recommend first listening to episode one.

Focus from KUOW, Puget Sound Public Radio.

A warning.

This episode touches on sexual and physical abuse. Please take care while listening.

The condom broke on a Saturday. That was the opening line of the first story I ever wrote for the messenger, the student newspaper at Garfield High School in Seattle.

I was 16 years old. The article was about the morning after pill, edgy and sure to get my

journalism teacher's attention, which I desperately wanted. We all did. His name was David Eric.

When I went to Garfield in the late 90s, journalism was like a varsity sport.

It was hard to get a position on the student newspaper, and Mr. Eric rejected me at first. I had to sit on the floor by my best friend's desk in the newsroom every day to prove I was committed enough until he finally relented.

For those who did make it, the schedule was punishing.

We'd stay until 10 p.m. many nights working on the next edition.

Miss a deadline, Mr. Eric would ream you out in front of everybody.

Whisper when he was talking, beware the pen he'd throw at your head.

Mind you, Mr. Eric gave us a lot of freedom. We came up with the story ideas. We wrote the editorials. But there was a throne and Mr. Eric sat on it. He was king and kingmaker. If Mr. Eric liked you, he'd give you a plum

role and hopefully a strong college recommendation letter. Mr. Eric said he wrote the best ones.

So for super achievers like us,

winning him over was a huge deal.

But it wasn't just about a letter.

...