It's what it did to us: to the world, to the United States, to me. It erased who we once were, forever. If, 50 years later, our heirs look around at their world and say, “how can all this be?”, I say, Remember 1968.
It’s 1968. I am 20. My friends are 20. For us, the world is 20. We are leaving home in 1968 to discover that world, my friends and I. What I discover finds its way into my journals and letters, the ones you will read here. What the world and I both discover are blows - sucker punches - that leave us baffled, and lost.
But it begins in 1967. So, so will I.