My first year at DMF, I met the runaway. She was lost and scared, running from more than just home. I don't even know her name, though I have gotten an occasional postcard from her, always signed "R.A." I don't know whether the initials are hers, or if they stand for "run away." I only get them when she moves again, which is less often now, two years later, but somehow her life has taken her to some amazing places, even if she seems occasionally scared of it.
The second year, it was an old friend on a two-hour layover in Las Vegas. Kori and I randomly hooked up in that airport after being apart for a while, and we got to re-live some good times and I nearly missed my plane.
This third year, I met two: Nancy and Hudson.
I'm looking forward to telling their story as well.