My step brother came for a short visit one summer.
There was a 12 year age gap between us.
(I thought he was so cool in his soft top jeep.)
Anyway, that summer I was 10.
We were in the backyard having lunch while sitting at the big red picnic table my dad built
When we heard a very strange, loud crash.
We ran out of the yard and looked in the direction of the noise to see black smoke rising high.
My brother ran inside and grabbed his camera.
Off we went to investigate.
Even though it was just the next street over the fire engines and ambulance were already there.
A small plane had crashed into the corner of an apartment.
I remember the smell of burning flesh and against my brothers adamant pleas to go away,
I stayed watching as they put a burnt body in a body bag
and carried it away.
I think there was only one body.