The event is “brain-etched,” deeply embedded and validated by the calendar. It was May of 1962, all “heady stuff” for a one-year-out-of-college guy invited to make a commencement address.
The distance was 87 miles from Brownwood to London in Texas’ beautiful Hill Country, where I would speak at graduation exercises for four seniors at a school that would cease to exist a year later.
What did I know about speaking? Reeling after accepting Superintendent Doris Johnson’s invitation, my mind whirled with scattered thoughts of what I might say upon reaching the podium…