The text messages that begin arriving on June 28 end my ordinary life. "Where does your husband work?" "What's happening in Annapolis?" "Have you seen the news?" My husband, John McNamara, is a reporter for the Capital Gazette. I am at my office, a government agency just outside Washington, D.C.
I know there are times he forgets his phone. I recall each of those times to myself. Then I repeat them to other federal workers passing by.
A new text shares a family information hotline number set up by some unknown organization of crisis responders. I call.