The sea speaks in many voices. On that first morning after the explosion of TWA Flight 800, amid the overwhelming stench of burning jet fuel and the plane's charred remains, hundreds of letters floated on the surface of the Atlantic, unanchored memories of diplomats, designers, doctors and teenagers. A postcard of the Statue of Liberty had become an interrupted souvenir, an image of the monument born in France that never made its way home. Out of a camera bag fished from the waste came a list in pencil, in what seemed to be a young girl's handwriting. Amy: light pink, size...
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