At any rate, at the time King was slain, I was out in the early evening, under darkening skies that threatened rain, making my way by thumb along secondary roads in Massachusetts trying to get to Concord and to my destination, Walden Pond. I didn’t know that the main subject of my paper, yet to be written, had already been shot and was being rushed to the hospital to be pronounced dead as I walked the last mile or so to the little park that contains the pond.
thiscantbehappening
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we should be wary that a faux “movement” may be manufactured on the backs of real movements that have sought to upend that political and ...
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Ever wonder why your wife married you? Ever ponder the knowing or questioning 'look' that she gives you when you are talking craz...
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