What I Found Sorting Through 1,200 T-Shirts My Son Left Behind

I took the D-shirt challenge, knowing it would be an emotional rollercoaster through weepy terrain. There was some sun overhead though, and some smiles to cut through the cold reality that I had to do it alone. Dan McQuade was my son, and as anyone who is familiar with his work here at Defector and elsewhere would know, he loved collecting bootleg T-shirts. The plan was for Dan and me to chart his massive bootleg T-shirt collection before he died. Thanks ultimately to his wife, Jan, who is very smart, the 1,200 or so shirts he accumulated could already be found in one of our closets inside 30 giant, blue plastic bags of Herculean strength. How they got there through my wife Denise’s NBA-playoff style defense against clutter is a wonder. I’m sure Jan convinced Dan in a nice way, because she’s a nice person, that either the extensive sneaker collection or his famous T-shirt extravaganza had to find new lodgings to make room for two-year-old Simon’s ever-growing toy truck fleet.