August 28, 1963 - Sitting on my living room floor mesmerized by Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech. With the exception of my father, MLK became my favorite person that day.

August, 1966 - MLK came to the south side, and I wanted my father to take me to see him in person. He said I was too young. I stayed home and watched the coverage on TV. I was stunned and horrified when my neighbors threw rocks at him. My father just shook his head in disgust at their behavior.

April 21, 1967 - My 9th birthday. A huge F4/5 tornado hit my neighborhood, killing 33 people and injuring hundreds. If it hadn't been my birthday, my father most likely would have also been killed - but he came home early that day.

April 4, 1968 - Woke up to the news that MLK had been assassinated. Over the days that followed, watching my city crumble and burn due to the riots. Some of those neighborhoods never recovered from their loss.

February 12, 1973 - Watching my VietNam POW "brother" Dan step off the plane after being released from the jungle. I wore a bracelet with his name and prayed my heart out night and day for the guy. I never even knew what he looked like until he stepped off that plane. I named my son after him. I'm wearing that bracelet again - until my son comes home from the desert.