Dedication
"For Dana, wherever you are, and all the jumpers from Falcon Street."

About the Book
Dana was my dear friend who lived down the street from the ages of five to nine. We both moved when we were about nine. She moved to California and I moved only ten miles away, but it might well have been a million. Once you leave a neighborhood, you go back to visit, but it isn't the same. You make new friends, so do they, and soon you have a new life in a new neighborhood.

Dana was hit by a car when she was six. I watched it happen from my window across the street. I've never forgotten it. Why she ran out into the street, I can't remember. After returning from the hospital, she remained in fragile condition for over a year. Her family set up a hospital bed in front of the big picture window, where she remained for months on end. I would visit her every day, many times a day, and we'd read books, have snacks, talk. When she wasn't well enough to have me in, I'd stand outside the window and we'd make faces—or I'd just wave and she'd wave back. I loved Dana. She lives somewhere in California, but we've lost contact.