On January 1, 1982, a stray bullet struck 13-year-old Jerome McGill below the neck and left him a quadriplegic. Dear Marcus is a novel-length letter to his shooter--an angry, thoughtful and profound missive written in gritty and brave language by a man-boy searching for closure and a way to make sense of the injustice of his tragedy.
McGill replays the events leading up to his shooting, as well as the months spent in reconciliation and rehabilitation at the now-closed St. Vincent's Hospital in New York City, where he relearns skills he once took for granted. He could easily dwell on the negatives and sink into the brutal depths of despair; reflecting on the possibilities that were taken from him, he admits "they can eat you up slowly like bone cancer or a flesh-eating bacteria." Looking back to those months, though, he graciously accepts his fate, revealing a profound sympathy and empathy with "Marcus," McGill's nickname for his unknown shooter.
McGill presents the pivotal moments of his life with the clarity of a cinematographer's lens--as a result, his letter becomes confident, reassuring, even an offer of friendship to Marcus. In the end, McGill sees his life's trajectory as a spiritual calling, one which the events of January 1, 1982, sealed into place--and for which he now rejoices. --Nancy Powell, freelance writer