as i ride from yorketown virginia to san francisco california, it was about 3700 miles. when i got to san francisco, i life. i couldn't make my brother come back, i couldn't make the world fair, i can't make senseless acts of violence, like what happened to my brother happen again. i stuck on this earth and find a way to do anything again. i could do the things he never had the opportunity to do. there are days when i am mad as hell that he is not here. mad at him for not being here. mad at the person who killed him and the people that i pointed my fingers at for years, because all of the things that i felt could have prevented this. i continue to pay my brother's cell phone bills. this is seven years out. one of the things i was so afraid of losingway - i didn't want to forget his voice. >> hello, this is jeremy, i can't come to the phone right now, leave a message, and i'll get back to you. >> it's short, but it is what it is. nothing anyone could have told me in the days or weeks or months would have told me that jeremy was dead. nothing they could have told me would