I don’t care that he never meant to hurt anybody.
I don’t care that he had a small cell and worried constantly about his cats.
I don’t care that he spent too long in solitary confinement.
All I could think of at the beginning of the play, during a sequence about the time he spent in solitary, was that that’s nothing compared to what my dad suffered when he was in the Twin Towers and they filled with smoke.
Nothing.
