Probably the most vivid memory of my childhood was in 1968. This was the day Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated. My mother, who was one of the only Black executives at a Hospital in the city called home to give us the news. She said that Dr. King was dead and that he had be taken to the hospital where she worked (Saint Joseph Hospital) in a Colonia…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Thought Crime: Permanently Banned from Twitter & YouTube to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.