In the spring of 1968, just four and a half years removed from the assassination of our country’s 35th president, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, we watched a year dawn unlike any we had seen in our young lives.
Martin Luther King was gunned down in April. Bobby Kennedy was murdered two months later. And two months after that, we watched unprecedented violence in Chicago at the Democratic National Convention. In subsequent years we also had college students shot and killed at Kent State, Gov. George Wallace (the man who physically stood in the doorway to prevent two black students from entering the University of Alabama) shot multiple times and political unrest like this country had not seen since the Civil War.
It was a surreal time to be an American.
