




Wednesday the city pauses on the church steps: a casket, a bowed head, and a man who is for once not the loudest thing in the frame. It will not be easy, he writes, and no one doubts him. The morning after the burial, three capital-letter words stand alone over a fresh grave. Thursday the committee's season finale plays the outtakes in prime time, and past midnight he asks the dark whether he is supposed to be happy. Friday the postponed rally finally happens — thank you, Arizona. And deep in the Sunday small hours he salutes the badge: brave, strong, smart. The chronicle marks the date. In fifteen days, law enforcement will come through his doors.
Readers' Corner
Letters from the readership on Week 371. Pick a pen name — no account needed.
Opening the mailbag…