Greatest Moment

Dad doesn’t believe me when I say I remember. It’s over 40 years later. “Who else was there?” he asks. I say, “Uncle Art was there. You were on my left, on the aisle. After the pass was popped up in the air you leaned down to pick up the binoculars.” He almost laughs in surprise, “You were there.” “I think I tugged on your sleeve,” I say. I didn’t need to finish the story. In our memories, we both see Franco Harris running down the sideline into the endzone. The Refs arms going up. The explosion of joy, the frenzy of disbelieving happiness from the crowd in Three Rivers Stadium. Dad and I smile at the same time. I nod to the statue of Franco every time I go through Pittsburgh airport. I stand on the sidewalk next to the parking lot near Heinz Field where his footprint is embedded in the exact spot he made the catch. Exuberant memories of the Immaculate Reception flood in black and gold.

JL Silverman is an MFA Creative Non-Fiction student at Chatham University. Her work has been published in the Griffith Observer, the Huffington Post, and the medical journals Imaging Economics and CLP. Two of her poems were published by Ekphrastic Review.