I was six years old and I saw the dogman of Virgilville, and I will never, ever forget it.

It was on a cool Thursday night in May of 1995.

Mom had told me to go to bed, but I was tired yet.

I'd snuck my gameboy under the covers and was playing Mario with the volume off, thinking

that I was, oh so clever.

Some was probably already in bed, and dad was working late, so he wouldn't be in

the check on me anytime soon.

I knew I could play to my heart's content, and I intended to do just that.

My fingers moved clumsily over the buttons as I sent Mario to his death over and over

again.

I wasn't very good at the game, but it didn't matter.

I loved it anyway.

I didn't look up from the screen until I heard the distant pop of what sounded like fireworks.

I remember that I'd peeked out of the covers.

There was no flashlight outside my window, and while it was a beautiful night, there wasn't

really any occasion to let off fireworks.

All the same, I could hear those frantic pops one after the other.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

I'd never heard a gun go off before.

In the movies and on TV, yes, but never in real life.

I never thought it would sound so much like fireworks.

I set my Game Boy down to go and look out the window.

...