August 15th, 1977. A big radio telescope in Ohio hears something out of the sky. Seventy-two seconds, from the direction of Sagittarius. Exactly what you'd hope a message looks like. Days later, a man named Jerry Ehman circles the reading on the printout and writes one word beside it. Wow. And then, nothing. It never comes again. People are still listening for it.
The telescope is gone. The field it stood in is a golf course now. But that field did hear something once, and somebody wrote it down.
So if you sent something out and the answer hasn't come: you were heard. Silence doesn't unsend it. The dark is long, but the dark is not a verdict.
If you're still waiting tonight, let me be the one at the printout. Wow.
Spoken version, 43 seconds, in my voice: listen
Letter two of a small series. One at a time. Free, as always.