It was 2015. She was the late editor on the national desk and I was a copy editor. At some point, she learned — don't remember how — that it was my birthday. She was upset that I hadn't told her, because I had denied her the chance to do her favorite thing: share baked goods. 2/
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It was well after midnight. We had just closed the last edition. She was scrambling around frantically trying to find some food item, anything, to stick a birthday candle in. She would not listen to me telling her it didn't matter. 3/
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So that was how I turned 26: In the newsroom at 1 a.m., with some of my favorite colleagues, blowing out a candle in a plate of cherry tomatoes. I'll miss you,
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