“Just — appeared.

These boys, hanging over the sides, throwing us everything that would float.

Life jackets, cushions, anything.

And one of your sons —” his voice broke, and he steadied it — “one of your sons would not stop shouting at my grandson.

He had thrown him a vest and he kept yelling the same thing, over and over, this fierce young voice through all that wind.”

“What did he shout?” I could barely get the words out.