SATURDAY MORNING POST THE END OF YOUTH I was a 16-year-old high school junior during that sunny lunch hour at Napa High School on November 22, 1963. The line at nearby campus favorite, Chick’s Burgers, was moving along when the shrill sound of a young woman in pain broke the calm. The President is dead and school is dismissed, she screamed. My youth and the youth of our brash, confident and proud country ended that moment 50 years ago. For the next four days we’d all be glued to the TV events in Dallas and Washington DC. The confidence of Camelot quickly gave way to a rapid succession of events spinning out of control. For me the spinning became the Beatles, the excitement of Haight Ashbury, HS graduation, the Marines, the Watts Riots, Viet Nam and deaths of friends, Dylan, my first newspaper job, first new car, marriage to Linda, my high school sweetheart, the birth of twin sons, Dave and Jim, our first house, living on the beach in a 16’ trailer while attending Cal Poly, Woodstock, a friend’s betrayal, the 2-year Marin newspaper strike, the sadness of Nixon and gas lines, a bigger house and bigger mortgage, Carter, inflation, my Jag XKE, the birth of our third son, Brett, promotions, transfers, my first management job, the first signs of my blindness to come, the promise of Reagan, helping birth USA Today, the adoption of our daughter, Rosemarie, marital struggles, Linda’s tragic breast cancer, resigning over ethics, becoming a single father of four, dating again, my first attempt at entrepreneurship, failure, doubt, self-criticism, and anger. After all this, 27 years ago Mary appeared and restored my belief in the promise of a balanced life. Both of us feeling wounded by the past, we married, promising each other nothing more than interesting lives, and started again. Since then we’ve established great friends, had outstanding mentors, and been honored by our peers and our community. We’ve traveled the world from Africa and India to Asia, Europe and most of the Americas. Promotions and honors came our way, and we are proud of our community service. We’ve been nurturing Strongpoint, investing, and endured the painful recession, downsized and began coping with my escalating blindness. In 1963 Camelot and our beloved President died. I didn’t know then, that same event would end my youth and begin life and responsibilities as a man. But, hindsight is clear. It was on that day. Now Mary and I are blessed with nine grand children. I will hug her this week as we relive the events of 50 years ago. And, I’ll think about how to explain to my grandchildren what it was like to grow up in idyllic Napa Valley and a youthful America before November 22, 1963. I’ll try to explain, but I don’t know how anyone could.
Posted on: Sat, 16 Nov 2013 18:09:07 +0000
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