Epilogue
July 9, 2026
“Only but for the Grace of God go I. I am so grateful to be alive. Thank You. Thank You. Thank You.”
I have whispered some version of this prayer thousands of times since that terrible night in August 1993 when I took a razor blade to my wrists in The Dome.
Today marks one year since my parents’ house burned to the ground — the house that held so many of my memories, including the box of journals and negatives from this very trip. If I had not pulled that box out the year before, everything from those 100 days would have been lost forever.
That desperate, lost 22-year-old kid who bought a one-way ticket to Europe in 1994 had no idea that the journey would become the foundation of the life I get to live today.
Because of those 100 days, I found my way back to myself. I found God. I found purpose. I found the courage to keep going. I reconnected with old friends who have now walked beside me for more than thirty years, and I made new ones who changed me in quiet, lasting ways.
One year after the fire, and thirty-two years after that night in The Dome, I am more grateful than ever.
I am living in the relationship of my dreams. I am doing work I love. My body and mind are strong. And I have the privilege of giving back — especially to McKenna’s Rae of Hope Foundation, right here in my hometown.
None of this would exist if that scared but determined young man hadn’t stepped off the plane in Ireland with nothing but a camera, a journal, and a prayer.
There is hope.
If you are hurting right now — if the darkness feels too heavy and the voices are too loud — please know this: Your story is not over. You are not alone. There is help, and there is another chapter waiting for you.
Call or text someone who loves you. Or call or text 988 right now.
Thank you for walking this journey with me.
From the bottom of my heart — thank you for reading.
And thank you, God, for the Grace that has carried me every single day since that night in The Dome… thank you for protecting me from the internal fire that nearly consumed me, and for protecting these stories from the very real fire that could have destroyed them.
— Todd