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My brother was only 14 when my mom died. I always felt really sorry for him about that, especially since he was youngest and all his siblings had left home. He was stuck with my kind-of stingy dad for his teen years after being spoiled by my generous mom and me and my sisters. He turned out okay though.
Another bad day was when our house was broken into in Mpls. It was kind of like a loss-of-innocence day for me. I didn't think neighbors did that kind of thing, but as it turned out, there were some real hardcore badass people living just down the street from us. They had always smiled and waved at me and my wife when they saw us, and they'd talk to us. Later I realized they were scoping us out, finding out all kinds of shit to plan when it was the best time for us to be away so they could break in. We came home to find almost the entire first floor of our place wiped out--microwave, TV, stereo, all my photography equipment... Gone.
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