Author: Daniela J. Lamas
October 30, 2023

The sickle cell crises were always different. Sometimes Lynndrick Holmes would wake up with a searing pain in his legs, as though there were knives growing out of his bones. Sometimes it was in his arms, like needles digging into his nerves. Other times it was in his chest. The air felt heavy and every breath burned as though there were a barbed wire cage around his lungs.

With each crisis, Mr. Holmes found himself farther away from the future he imagined. He would not serve his country as a Marine. He would not become a writer on a ranch, living a quiet, secluded life. He could not finish community college. He could not even keep a job washing dishes.

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