In the fall of 1992, I was working fulltime as senior publicist and promotional writer for KCET, public television for Southern California.  We had just filmed an educational special for PBS called “Count On Me.” It was going to be screened for the underwriters at a special gala to be held at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington D.C.  I was representing the station at the event.  

This is something I did farely regularly and my family had fallen into a kind of rtual during my trips.  I always flew the  redeye out of LAX and I would have the limo pick me up at around 8:30pm. My flight left at 10:30pm. My wife Irene kissed me goodby, then proceeded to order take-out.  She, my six year old daughter Corrie and my three year old son Cullen would then sit around the coffee table, eat dinner and play four rounds of this board game called Ludo.

By 10:15pm, both kids were in bed and Irene was enjoying a leisurely bath before sitting down with her nightly glass of cabernet. Just then, she heard the doorbell ring.  She quickly got out of the bath, wrapped a towel around her and yelled from the hallway.  “Who is it.”

She heard me yelling back, “Irene, they’ve cancelled the flight.  I am going to have to leave the first thing in the morning. Let me in, my keys are in my bag.”

Irene quickly dashed to the door, opened it and without greeting me, ran to the bedroom to dry off and put on a nightgown.  She heard me come into the living room and turn on the evening news on the TV.  She couldn’t understand why I had the sound up so loud.  She was about to yell at me to turn it down when the phone rang. She picked it up, said hello and I replied…

“Hi babe, they’re boarding the plane now so kiss the kids for me and…”

She dropped the phone and realized that she had never seen who had actually entered the house.  She picked up the phone again but only heard, “If you wish to make a call…” She went to the bedroom door. The TV was still playing too loud. She opened the door and looked out into the living room.  There was no one there, but at that moment she heard the door to the childrens’ bedroom open.  She went down the hall and saw that the door to their bedroom was now open but there were no lights on.  She went to the bedroom, stared in and saw a figure bent over Cullen’s bed. She screamed, “No, Please” and turned on the light.  

Corrie and Cullen shot straight up in their beds.  And I turned around, looked at her and asked. “What’s the matter with you.” Thirty minutes later, my children were huddled wide eyed in our bed.  My wife was sitting at the end of the bed finishing off her second glass of wine, while I explained to her the wonders of KCET’s new voice mail system that allowed me to record a message that afternoon and program my office phone to call at exactly 10: 20 pm.  

The next morning, I got up at 4:30am to catch a 5am limo to the airport.  My wife didn’t get up and she didn’t kiss me goodby.