Richard Melcher was 43 when he died in New Orleans, Louisiana, and even with only that small handful of facts, the shape of what follows is heartbreakingly familiar. A person can be reduced to a name and a place in an instant, but a life is never that simple. Behind the words “died in New Orleans” is a man who once moved through ordinary days—days that were supposed to keep unfolding—until they didn’t. Whatever his routines were, whatever streets he knew by heart, whatever people expec
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