By Ash Freeman 1  Jack who couldn’t come back. He always told me that one day I would be listening to the radio or watching the news and hear a big story about a man who did something great. He said, “You’ll say to yourself, I know that crazy fucker.” I laughed out loud like he was full of shit. He always talked like he was the greatest man alive and could save every woman from harm’s way. He was working on my deck; he took it upon him self to fix the broken steps.  The wood was old and had deep cracks in every beam, rotting away like old food in a compost pile. The sounds of the circle saw he used rang out…