hi, i'm katrin

to my dear friend nevaeh,some people are not meant to write letters. i am people. i feel like when i write things, i kind of just ramble on and on. i have many examples of this. i’m not going to do that because the point of this letter is to wish you a happy birthday but make it somehow have meaning.i have cried every birthday since i turned eleven. even back then i knew i never wanted to grow up. my house looked different. my dogs were gone. i couldn’t see my aunts or uncles anymore. everything wouldn’t stop changing and there was nothing i could do about it. but i am different now, too—my home feels smaller and the world outside seems bigger. i read once that baby teeth don’t fall until they let go of their roots. maybe that is me. the me i am now is different than the me i was before. i don't know her very well yet, but i am happy i get to.growing up is sad. i am no longer friends with people. i thought would be in my life forever. but no. people outgrow people. compatibility is revealed overtime. the people i see everyday in the halls with graduate and they will be old one day and have grandchildren and families and we will all forget about each other and school will just be a memory.i really hope that does not happen to quadruplets. it sounds a little silly using that word but i do mean it. i think we are the best of friends, and i would like you guys to grow old with me. i just appreciate you and everyone else because you all make me feel wanted. all i have ever wanted was to be wanted, so i thank you.maybe all those things i just said don’t mean anything to you, maybe they don’t make sense, maybe you understand it and can relate it back to yourself. happy birthday to my dear friend nevaeh. if you would like, there is a legible version on katrinle.carrd.co/#nevaehlegible

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genie wiley, 1957

... he [Pearl Wiley] made dog noises outside the door and beat her if he believed she had continued to do [something bad], instilling in Genie an intense and persistent fear of cats and dogs ... Genie learned to make as little sound as possible ... a magazine picture of a wolf sent Genie into a terror.
... around 11:00 at night she [her mother] would try to give Genie additional food, causing Genie to develop an abnormal sleep pattern in which she slept from 7 to 11 PM, woke up for a few minutes, and fell back asleep for an additional 6 1⁄2 hours.
... she could not focus them on anything more than 10 feet (3 m) away, corresponding to the dimensions of the room her father kept her in.
When eating, she held anything she could not swallow in her mouth until her saliva broke it down, and if this took too long, she spat it out and mashed it with her fingers.
She seemed especially curious about unfamiliar sounds, and Kent noted that she very intently searched for their sources
When upset Genie would wildly attack herself, and while doing so she remained completely expressionless and never cried or vocalized.
She rapidly developed a sense of possession ... she would hoard objects to which she took a liking, and became extremely upset if someone touched or moved anything she collected ... especially sought out beach pails.
She also showed a deep fascination with classical piano music played in front of her ... if someone played anything other than classical music she would change the sheet music to a book which she knew had pieces she liked.
... when a minor earthquake struck Los Angeles, she ran frightened into the kitchen and rapidly verbalized to some of the hospital cooks she had befriended, marking the first time she sought out comfort from another person ... she still had a hard time being with large crowds of people; at her birthday party, she became so anxious at all the guests present that she had to go outside with Rigler to calm down.
Genie consistently confused the pronouns you and me, often saying, "Mama love you" while pointing to herself.
... the Riglers overheard Genie saying, "Father hit big stick. Father is angry." ... "Father hit" ... she often asked them where her father was, afraid that he would come to get her. "Father hit arm. Big wood. Genie cry ... Not spit. Father. Hit face—spit. Father hit big stick. Father is angry. Father hit Genie big stick. Father take piece wood hit. Cry. Father make me cry. Father is dead."

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db cooper, 1971

Assuming the note was a lonely businessman's number, Schaffner dropped the note unopened into her purse. Cooper then leaned toward her and whispered, "Miss, you'd better look at that note. I have a bomb."
"[Cooper] was not nervous. He seemed rather nice and was not cruel or nasty."
... a passenger wearing a cowboy hat questioned Mucklow about the alleged mechanical issue with the aircraft ... Cooper was initially amused by the interaction, then became irritated and told the man to return to his seat, but "the cowboy" ignored Cooper and continued to question Mucklow ... he eventually persuaded "the cowboy" to return to his seat.
... Mucklow said she was originally from Pennsylvania, but was living in Minneapolis at the time. Minnesota was very nice country, Cooper responded. Mucklow then asked Cooper where he was from, but he became upset and refused to answer.
... Cooper inspected the money. Mucklow jokingly asked Cooper if she could have some of the money. Cooper readily agreed, handed Mucklow a packet of bills, but she immediately returned the money and explained accepting gratuities was against company policy. Cooper had tried to tip her and the other two flight attendants earlier in the flight with money from his own pocket...

take me back