Here is an excerpt of “Meeting Bobby Kennedy.” The essay appeared in Cedars in the fall of 2011 and can be viewed in full here.
Spring comes late in Indiana. March drags into April, and for weeks and weeks everything is awful. The sky is gray and cloudy. The fields are endless and muddy, and you know that somewhere out there a flash flood has surprised a young possum and drowned it. Then, a few pussy willow buds sneak out and finally a day arrives when you wear a jacket to school but can carry it home. That’s the day the sky lifts and finally, life seems worth living again.
It was a sunny day like that, the first of May 1968, when I met Bobby Kennedy.