On a warm day in Seattle in 2005 I was walking from my office down town to Elliot Bay Books in Pioneer Square when I saw August Wilson talking to a man on the street. I knew that he often walked and talked to anyone who approached him. I increased my step to the book store and quickly bought one of his plays then ran back to where I had seen him. He was gone. Although I wanted his signature in the book, I wanted even more to talk to him. He died not too long after that; a great loss.
On a warm day in Seattle in 2005 I was walking from my office down town to Elliot Bay Books in Pioneer Square when I saw August Wilson talking to a man on the street. I knew that he often walked and talked to anyone who approached him. I increased my step to the book store and quickly bought one of his plays then ran back to where I had seen him. He was gone. Although I wanted his signature in the book, I wanted even more to talk to him. He died not too long after that; a great loss.
I sent this to my son in Pittsburgh who might be unaware of August Wilson.