On Thanksgiving morning I received an unexpected email from someone whose name sounded vaguely familiar but that I couldn’t place.
The email read as follows:
You likely do not know me. About seven years ago I was sitting in a cell and opened up a manila envelope with a story enclosed in it. It was a piece written by my high school teacher Dennis Danziger. He told me he wrote a piece on me. I didn’t know why. I just knew that the guy cared about me and wanted to help.
[For more on this story by LA Guest, go to http://witnessla.com/the-writer/]
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