On my way back to the afternoon session of my junior year in high school the rock and roll music from KLIF was interrupted. It was 1963. The President of the U.S. was in a motorcade in downtown Dallas and shots had been fired. I arrived at the small town high school just minutes later. The afternoon classes would not even attempt to be held. The news finally was announced that the President was dead. Tears rolled down my cheeks as well as many other students and teachers. I had driven on that street. Classmates recalled at our 50th reunion last fall that they had picked up books for the school from the Book Depository just days before the shooting. It was a pivotal moment for many of our generation, one we never forgot. Like our parents and the bombing of Hawaii. Or 9/11. Last evening, 7-7-2016, I was just messing on the computer as there was nothing on TV. All the blogs were read and I wandered over to facebook. ...
