That was why Elliot and I remembered there was a Stop the Church protest planned on the Sunday after the Gallows Lounge shooting—because Nora had been opposed to the protesters entering the cathedral and interrupting the Mass, and Nora wasn’t known for being the voice of caution and respect. “There’s no stopping the Catholic Church. You shouldn’t try to stop them; all you can do is try to control the damage they do,” Nora had said. She’d said this calmly; she had stopped railing. It seemed Em also remembered what was happening at St. Patrick’s. Em not only knew that Nora had planned to go; Em had made Nora promise not to enter the cathedral.

Exactly how had Em dressed to go to church? I asked Elliot Barlow. Elliot was still wearing her flannel pajamas; she’d made herself a cup of tea and was making some coffee for Em and me. I was no more dressed to go to church than the snowshoer—socks, sweatpants, a T-shirt—and I was wondering why it was taking Em an eternity to do her makeup. She’d indicated to Elliot that she would be in the bathroom, tracing her eyebrow with an index finger, and touching her lips, to pantomime putting on her makeup. “Em was wearing black tights, that black skirt your mother gave her, a black turtleneck—for God’s sake, if Em had a black veil, I’m sure she would have worn it!” the snowshoer was saying.

“Em couldn’t have put on her makeup in a veil,” I pointed out to Mr. Barlow.

“Shit—I’ll bet she’s given us the slip!” the snowshoer suddenly cried, spilling her tea. Sure enough: Em had slipped away. We rushed around, putting on our running clothes. “There’s no dress code for a Mass—it’s not like a wedding or a funeral!” I could hear the little English teacher yelling.

That Sunday morning, December 10, 1989—two days after the Gallows Lounge shooting—it was below freezing, in the twenties, in New York City. Elliot Barlow and I had checked the coat closet; we knew Em was wearing her black ski parka with the hood. With or without makeup, she would be looking a little severe. We hoped she wouldn’t go inside the church; we were sure there would be trouble at the Mass. What would Em do if the police stopped her, if a cop asked her any questions? We knew Em wouldn’t speak, not even to the police.