(Photo: Courtesy of David Simon)

I was the night cops reporter. A fuel truck blew up on Quantico Avenue in Pimlico in Baltimore. I managed to dictate about 35 clean inches from a phone booth to the rewrite woman, who was named Jane Smith. Jane told me that everybody else who was dictating in had nickels and dimes, but I had the whole dollar. And then I knew I was okay. I knew I’d be okay at that moment.