My uncle's old Marlboro jacket was hanging by the door. It was soft from many years of fun trips. It wasn't just a shirt or pants; it had so many memories. When he'd let me try it on, I felt taller, cooler. It had a faint smell of open roads and good times. I imagined him cruising, the sun on his face, that famous logo a symbol of freedom. That jacket always made me dream of my own journeys, even though I was just a kid. It felt like history, right there in my hands.