JFK? My generation’s sorrow was 1968, tucked between 1963 and 9/11

Creak. Thunk. Creak. Thunk. Hear that? It’s the sound of the bandwagon lumbering by, pausing just long enough for me to vault myself over the backboard. I never wore I wouldn’t write about the anniversary of John F. Kennedy’s murder, I was only hoping I wouldn’t need to fall back on it, sprawled across my … More JFK? My generation’s sorrow was 1968, tucked between 1963 and 9/11