I am sitting in a hotel room, fire in the fireplace, rain on the roof, stuffed with a recently eaten English pastie trying to remember when Dan was here in Monterey. The last time that I remember being here with him was near Bill's wedding to Kathy. We were at the house in Carmel and we went walking on the beach. Dogs everywhere and just ahead was the 10th green at Pebble Beach. Gorgeous.
Mostly, though, Dan came here on his own. He talked about the beach house and how he liked to sit on the back deck and watch the sun go down as he listened to the waves on the beach below. It was the same sound he had at his apartment in Pismo Beach where we would drink tea.
I come to Monterey every year to the California Attorneys for Criminal Justice-California Public Defenders Association Death Penalty Seminar. Four days of intense workshops and lectures on how to do my job better. Dan kept saying that one year he would come with me.
He would have enjoyed the intellectual discussions, the passionate pleas, the dedication and plain stubbornness of the people who give these lectures. He would have liked the hotel room with the fireplace, too.