chicago fire: pilot
walk with a purpose, don’t run

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I had a very good friend named Gil. We were in the same unit in Iraq, second tour for both of us. Gil was a real character, big motor mouth, very good soldier, and uh, he was always talking about how everyone has this hourglass, and the top of it is obscured, so you don’t know how much sand you have left. And he’d be like, “Hey, Clarke, how much sand do you think we got left? How much sand?” Anyway, we get back and he started to slip. His mom was worried about him, like the rest of us, and she asked me to keep an eye on him. And I did - I tried. Uh, I was outside Wrigley, and Gil is supposed to meet me there, and I get a text from him, “There’s no more sand." I go racing over there… I didn’t make it. 

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