I distinctly recall hearing about riots at UB and how you were worried about him getting home okay. Angela and I would watch the car headlights coming toward our apartment on Main St. from our bedroom window, trying to figure out if each car was a white VW bug or not.
Do you remember all four of you children crammed into that VW bug, before seat belts and child safety seats, going to see the grandparents in Ohio?
The riots happened when we still lived in Buffalo in the upstairs apartment, 18 months before Jessie was born.
I think well over 70 professors were involved in the riots, and there was a lot of pressure applied to your Dad to be one of them. As an AirForce vet, he wasn’t about to participate, and did his best to stay below the radar.
But, we got all sorts of flack for not participating in all the drugs, sex, and rock and roll back then, too, and just put up with the abuse from our peers, who all considered us way too conventional, not realizing that we were the true rebels against their destructive group-think.
Think that was a run-on sentence, so must be time to go to bed.
I still miss Angela.
You put up a good post, and brought back so many memories...