Martin Luther King was shot and killed in Memphis. Most of you were not alive, or if alive, so young that you don't remember this. I was 16 years old. I had just dropped out of high school on April 1. My life was utter and complete chaos. And the United States was utter and complete chaos.
Last night I watched a CNN show about MLK's death. There was a shock of recognition and memory when they showed the cities burning after his death. I flew to Ohio from Chicago in that time. From the air you could see the smoke that signaled a city on fire, and there were many of them. It was horrifying. And then only a few weeks later Robert Kennedy was killed. I thought the world was ending. The fact that I was drinking every day and using whatever drug crossed my path probably had something to do with that.
At work yesterday I attended a pandemic tabletop exercise. It was sobering. The possibility of a pandemic flu is apparently not a question of "if," but of "when." The facilitator of the exercise talked about the Hong Kong Flu of 1968 - and I remembered it - because I had it. I remember how very sick I was. It was weird to realize then that I am older than most everybody with whom I work.
OK! Enough of that morbidity!
I am considering registering for a half-marathon on Sunday. A friend asked me if I want to do it. I just might.
My daughter finally made it to a safe place last night. I pray she can stay there.
Have a nice sober Friday everyone.