In this St. Louis house, everyone wakes at six. Six is far too early. I roll out of bed later, then tentatively find breakfast and mayhem. Children like me; I can be their goofy older brother who doesn’t yell or forbid, unlike their father.
We take the kids for a walk in a nearby woods. Rene is right: Missouri does have a lot of easy conveniences. On our walk, we see few other people. Quentin wants to run after a deer.
Anouk comes home from work in the afternoon to rescue Rene from parenting. He and I head into downtown St. Louis to see the sites. We walk under the Arch, through the financial district, and around the baseball stadium. With the Arch, I check off another great American landmark.
St. Louis has fine architecture but no people. Tuesday afternoon, the sidewalks are empty and there are few cars. Where is everyone? What does St. Louis make anymore? We speculate that major employers, like Monsanto and Pfizer, have moved into the suburbs. Can a city die like a person?