I’ve been to one demolition derby in my life. I was probably ten or younger. It was near the home of my maternal grandparents in Mt. Carmel, IL.

I went with my Uncle Bob. When you’re a kid, or least when I was a kid, you can be pretty dumb and oblivious to how adults act. I didn’t see him that much, but I feel like I did get a sense of him. Bob always struck me as a little bit goofy and mischievous, but very sweet and kind-hearted.

I remember the derby being really loud, cars smashing into each other, etc. I also remember seeing something really strange — a pretty large object on fire gradually crossing the nighttime sky and burning itself out. I have no idea exactly how big or far away it was, but I could see literal flames trailing in its wake. It was a memorable night.

Anyways. I miss you, Bob.