Over 4 years ago, on December 7, 2012, on a Friday, I lived in a two bedroom house on 319 Iowa Avenue in Louisville, KY, just a few blocks south of Churchill Downs, where the decadent & depraved Kentucky Derby is ran annually. I lived there with Jason Zuckero, my roommate, for a year. At the time, I was a graduate student at Spalding University, working on becoming a High School Social Studies teacher by going through their 2 year teacher-training MAT program. At about 6pm, just after dusk, while it was slightly raining - a light sprinkle - I decided to go to the local gas station, which was exactly 2 blocks away from my home. I could have drove my car that night, but I didn't, and I regret that decision. I decided to walk instead on that nice cool & slightly dreary & rainy night to the conveinance store. I stepped onto the sidewalk just outside of my house, turned right, walked about 100 feet down Iowa Avenue to 4th Street, and then I turned right on 4th street, wal