Forty Years

1968 was a notable year. In many ways, the world we live in today has its genesis in that year of riots, assassinations, war and the counter-culture. It was also the year I turned twelve. In my humble opinion, there is no better year in the life of a boy. At twelve, you are old enough to be given a great deal of autonomy in where you go and what you do. Girls have not yet become an obsession, and your friends at that age will be friends for life.

Toward the end of my twelfth year, something marvelous occurred. For the first time in history, men traveled to the moon. The first landing was yet to come on July 20th of the next year, but forty years ago tonight men were orbiting the moon.



Merry Christmas, and may God bless you.