The glow was getting lighter, and you could barely see the outline of Harkness Tower, but it was still very dark and it was still very, very quiet in New Haven, and it seemed we had been sitting there for an hour when the white car pulled into the parking lot, and our friend Amy got out, and after her, a police officer.

I have never been pushed off a tall building. But if I ever do. I'm sure I will feel a lot like I did at that moment. Amy had come to get the bursar's cards from the glove compartment.

She looked calm. She told us our six friends had been caught by the New Haven and Yale Police and were on their way to the police station. Amy told us not to worry. The police officer looked down at us through the window.

"Whome car?" he said.

"My father's." I said. He smiled. He told us to stay in the car.

"Can we come with you?"

"Just stay here. Don't get anywhere"

H H H

You don't realize what you miss when you spend all your time in school going to classes and studying and then spending vacations with your family. There's are a lot that goes on in the world at night. There are a lot of people who are up all night, and if they are not working at gas stations or all night groceries, they're probably in jail.

Jamie and John spent that morning in adjoining cells in the New Haven jail. They could not see each other, but they could talk to each other. From other parts of the jail, they could hear people screaming and banging against the walls. Each of their cells had metal walls and metal beds and John's had a toilet that flushed every five minutes:

Sarah did not get a private cell. Hers was in the women's section. She shared it with a prostitute. They had a long talk.

The jail was dark, and the sun rose slowly. John told me later it was the worst night of his life. Sarah later wrote a paper for Professor Robert Coles's class about her talk with the prostitute.

H H H

At 7:00, after we had left the note and the money, and just before we left New Haven, I called my friend Sam at Yale, who I was to see that night in Cambridge. I asked him to give my three friends a ride up. Sam told me I was crazy.

As we barreled north on the Connecticut Turnpike, the suspects were driven in a black police van to the New Haven courthouse. John was handcuffed to a heroin addict.