“trumpeter”
Jess could scream louder than anyone, from babies to announcers. She and I would cheer at the swim meets and the only voice we could ever hear besides ours was Dad’s. We could even hear him underwater. It made sense that Jess played the trumpet. Loud, brash and heard over everyone, it was a match and although she didn’t bother practicing much, she didn’t really care so long as she could be heard. Mom and Dad bought her a Bach when she became drum major and she blasted out her solos all the way to the back of the stands.
