Martha Corey-Ochoa, my only child, died at eighteen, and losing her caused me the greatest grief I have ever known.
Yet, four years later, I don't consider myself an unfortunate man. Instead, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth because I had Martha as my daughter. The years that I knew her were the best eighteen years of my life, and if I could go back to the time before she was born, and this time have a different child who wouldn't die so young, I wouldn't, because then I would never know Martha.
At the same time, I am conscious that the years are passing, and that when my wife and I are gone there will be few people left alive to tell Martha's story or honor her memory. As a writer, I know that every writer wants to be famous, if not while she is alive then afterward. The best thing I can do for Martha now is to give her her chance. I started this site to let her words speak for her. --George Ochoa