The high school marching band met as usual first period yesterday.

They tried to play Taylor's favorite cadence.

And failed.

He was the only drummer who knew how to do it.

The memorial of flowers, candles, letters, instruments and teddy bears at 13th and Spruce continues to grow. The wife goes past it to get to work.

She says it's hard not to start the day with tears.

She called youngest son this evening. He doesn't want to talk. But he's coming home tomorrow to be with Taylor's family.

"Drive careful," I hear her order him.

"Wear your seatbelt."

She stopped at the grocery store to get a couple things on the way home. And saw two girls from band leaving with bouquets of fresh flowers.

Their eyes red, cheeks streaked with tears.

And before she could finish telling me, hers were too.