Nobody went to federal prison. Nobody got fifteen years. The man who was actually dead at the bottom of all this — Dwayne Prine — had his death certificate amended after nineteen months, and that one piece of paper is the only thing in this entire story that I consider a complete success.
And I Need to Tell You What Was Actually in That Urn, Because That Part Is True
I had it tested. Cost me three hundred and ten dollars at a lab in Columbus and I drove it there myself on the passenger seat with a seatbelt around the box, which I am aware is an insane thing to do.
Wood ash and crushed limestone.
Seven years. On my mantel. Between Eleanor’s wedding picture and the clock my father got for twenty-five years at the plant.
My wife put her hand on that urn probably four hundred times in the six months she had left. She used to go in there at night and I’d hear her talking to it.
