Nighttime Fears Give way to Daddy’s Eyes

This column is for anyone who has ever been afraid of the dark, who has felt like you can’t breathe.

The night I became afraid happened when someone broke into our home, and it was when I was around six years old that I started dreading bedtime.

Before that night, the train rumbled down the Arkansas tracks next to our driveway like it always had, a click-clack of music that took place next to our home. And the honeysuckle grew like weeds, taking over the fence on the opposite side.