48 February 2022 The Birthday Journal K IMBA MAR I E WI L L I AMS Lightning strikes twice I heard a lot of noise—was someone crying? All four of the televisions we had were tuned to the news, and there were blaring reports of a local nightclub in Brooklyn where police were on the scene. Whose voices are those? Is it my party? It was one week before my fifth birthday, and I was so excited. It meant that I could go to school with all the “older” girls, wear a uniform, and finally be “grown up.” My dad promised to buy me anything I wanted, and I knew he, as always, would keep his promise. He liked nice things: he drove a Cadillac, was always fashionably dressed and covered in expensive gold jewelry, and he was a true lady charmer, but to me, he was just my father, happy to spoil his children in any way he could. Dad loved birthdays, and he took them seriously. He made sure that each one of us had the best birthday. The delightful memories of my fourth birthday started to flood my mind. My dad made sure that it was the best day ever. He had planned everything, from the decorations to
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