Forty years ago today I was heading out to the corner for the school bus with my little brother. I remember us skipping on the slates of the walk to the driveway. There was no lawn.

We had just moved into our new home in January. The area had been potato farms. Grass had just been seeded that spring and little had grown so far. Mud reigned supreme.

There were few kids at the bus stop. Usually we were loud and laughing. Today there was little talking. One of the older kids, a 5th or 6th grader finally got around to what we were avoiding.

He talked about RFK getting shot.

I said nothing. I just thought about my mom crying in the den watching the Today Show. My grandmother had been silent during breakfast. She quietly filled my red plastic lunch box while looking under the cabinets to catch a glimpse of the TV. Grandma was in such a state she didn't even try to get me to wear a sweater in the heat.


We stood there for quite some time. No one seemed to notice that the bus was oddly late.

Mrs. P called for Jeff. Suddenly both my mother popped out our front door. Both were yelling something.


School was cancelled.