My Son Struck Me Thirty Times at His Birthday Dinner. The Next Morning, I Sold the Mansion He Thought He Owned.
I said no.
He needed to work without my eyes on him and without anybody treating the day as a ceremony of redemption.
The supervisors were told to expect the same punctuality and courtesy they required from every volunteer.
Two months later, a supervisor sent Howard an ordinary attendance report.
Trevor had shown up early, stayed until the last tool was returned, and asked for another shift.
Nothing heroic.