At nine thirty I left the observation alcove and walked down the concrete stairs behind the main curtain.

The low, steady roar of four thousand guests came through the heavy steel doors like distant thunder under a clear Hudson Valley sky.

The backstage holding area was cool and completely quiet.

A single bulb overhead cast a sharp shadow across the granite floor.

I stood by the curtain and checked the green coat of my dress uniform, making sure the ribbon racks over my left pocket were lined up.

My silver class ring felt cold and solid against my thumb as I spun it twice around the joint.