Joan and Anita went out shopping one day and never returned. On their way home they were involved in a head on collision with a truck and both of my b...autiful girls were killed. Our lifestyle could not be concealed from the authorities but even though they acted professionally. I felt like I was the one being judged. After the funerals I packed up and moved out and ended up selling it because it held too many memories to remain their alone. I got Joan and Anita’s possessions back and the first. It was hopeless. I felt like shit. Like failure. Dad wouldn't have approved, I'm sure of that.Just a fuckup. That's what it felt like and that's what it was. So, no, I didn't cry, but I felt like it. I solved it the way I'd solved so many similar things over the years: I cut it out of my life. I told myself it was because I was bored with it, that I hated darkroom work, that I was only doing it because Dad did it and my brother the jerk did it, and I didn't really want to do it, anyway.That. More

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