It was a morning that will forever be burned into my memory. Thursday, June 6, 1968, in the early summer after completing the eighth grade, I awakened at my grandparents’ home thinking it would be just another day of doing chores at their farm in Central Texas. As I started putting on my work clothes, my grandfather solemnly walked into the bedroom where my brother James and I slept and said, “I’ve got some bad news, and I bet you can guess what it is.”
