By: susie day, CounterPunch
My dad went to prison when I was five. I think we visited him a couple times while he was in jail, before he was sentenced. After that, I didn’t have contact with him since I was six or seven years old.
When I was older, like 22 and in college, I had a random thought: “I know so little about him. I don’t know where he is or what’s happening to him.” I didn’t even know if he was still alive.