Baptist. Criminal.

When I was nineteen, my friends and I broke into an abandoned building. An abandoned, condemned building actually.

It was a skyscraper. The largest building in our tiny, college town. It lorded over the city – a massive, towering, thirteen-story edifice.

We were such rebels. Anthony, Jeff, David, Jason, Lori, Susan, Julie. And me.

We explored the upper floors by flashlight. And discovered a basement filled with mattresses. Aging mattresses piled four or five deep. Across an entire city block.

That’s where we spent the night. Our first camp-out together. It was totally innocent. Except for the part about the trespassing.

The only thing missing was a bottle of wine.

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2 Responses to Baptist. Criminal.

  1. Jason says:

    One of the best memories of my life. Love and miss you guys.

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