(no subject)

So yesterday, I found out that my sixth grade band conductor, Mr. Steve Platt, had died. I can't say I remembered the name at first, but at least I can say that his face came vividly to my memory. I don't remember much about him, other than I always thought he was an amazing man. I don't really have anything to say, nothing profound or thoughtful, or even sad.

I just thought it would be nice to be able to look back in my journal six months from now and remember that I cried for him.