"Here's a baby photo of Jim Brewton I came across in 2009. Bizarrely, my stepfather Mark Schilling had it. I was visiting Mark to help him through a week of chemo, and we were sitting around the kitchen table. (Or, rather, the "kitchen" table retirement-home style, where the retiree brings the old family dinner table to the new one-bedroom apartment and squeezes the table into the living room.) We sat there, and Mark pulled out a small wooden box of old photos, from before Barbara took her purse and left. He offered me whatever pictures I wanted. Actually, I'd already swept that box, when I was in 11th grade and having horrible drama with Barbara. During a fit of f-you, I'd removed all of the photos in which I appeared. So there wasn't much of anything left in the old family photo repository for me. One or two snapshots of my mother with her brother Nick. And, oddly, a narrow little photo of Jim as a baby, beautifully worn as if it had once ridden around in a wallet for some time. I snatched it, wondering what it was doing there in the Schilling boxhold, and pleased that I was able to instantly recognize the baby as Jim. --Emily"