I watched as the young man, a teenager, ran from one side of the campsite to the other, one arm held out in front in a defensive posture, the other waving above his head with reckless abandon. He was yelling in mock-exhilaration and his friends howled with laughter. He was telling a story. I can’t remember the substance of his tale or why it just had to include running across the campsite. My sense of the memory eclipses the details. But that doesn’t matter. Remembering him,