Have you ever shared a special moment with a stranger, then never saw that stranger ever again? It happens more often than you would think — these missed connections. When I heard this Boston man’s story about a woman he met on New Year’s Even in 1972, it was proof that there’s always a reason behind meeting every person. I sincerely hope you enjoy this story as I did.
I met you in the rain on the last day of 1972, the same day I resolved to kill myself.
One week prior, at the behest of Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger, I’d flown four B-52 sorties over Hanoi. I dropped forty-eight bombs. How many homes I destroyed, how many lives I ended, I’ll never know. But in the eyes of my superiors, I had served my country honorably, and I was thusly discharged with such distinction.