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Rowed across the Hudson at dawn, my frien William P. Van Ness signed on as my number 2
I watched Hamilton examine the terrain, I wish I could tell you what was happening in his brain.
I watched as he examined his gun with such rigor? I watched as he methodically fiddled with the trigger.
Confession time? Here's what I got: My fellow soldiers will tell you I'm a terrible shot.
I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory. Is this where it gets me, on my feet several steps ahead of me? I see it coming, do I run, or fire my gun, or let it be?
Angelica and Eliza stayed at his side until he died
Teach me how to say goodbye
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