The dream began in rural Maine during my first year of college. On a sunrise kayak the day after my general chemistry final examination, I encountered the most magnificent canoe I had ever seen. It was captained by an elderly man robed in flannel, and as it slid from behind a peninsula across the glassy surface of the lake, I gawked. Strips of wood curved from bow to stern, hardwood gunwales ran the lengths of the hull, and a decorative inlay adorned the side. The gentleman responded to my stares with kindness, explaining each stage of the build. As a first-time builder, he had worked for nearly 300 hours over the course of a full year. He beamed with quiet pride.
Love KR. My Grandfather’s Blueprint. JAMA Cardiol. 2022;7(6):579–580. doi:10.1001/jamacardio.2022.0292
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