by Neil Stout I was teaching in the history department at Texas A&M. I emerged from the university library stacks to find the reading room deserted. The attendants told me that the president, the vice president, and the governor had been shot in Dallas. I rushed to my office in Nagel Hall, where I listened […]
A Late Autumn Day in Dallas
On November 22, 1963, I was coloring, the tip of my new red Crayola, irritatingly, already worn down to a nub. A neighbor—the first adult I had ever seen weep–came to the back door. “Go get your mother,” she screamed, “the President’s been shot.”
Fathers & Sons
My father fought in North Africa and Italy during the Second World War. He didn’t like much of anything about being a soldier but he was proud to have helped to defeat Hitler.