There are days that collapse in a tired sigh more than coming to the end of a day’s worth of activities. Our day’s sign left Winnie and I slumped into the couch, not snuggled but close enough to touch. We wound down the final day of our forty-seventh year of marriage. The television flickered forth a black and white retrospective film. Peter, Paul & Mary’s harmonies and musical story telling rang out from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. 1963. Throngs of thousands who gathered in the March on Washington joined with the trio in singing, “How many roads must a man walk down before they call him a man?...The answer my friend is blowin’ in the wind...” Winnie took my hand. No words were said; none were needed. Martin Luther King Jr. was about to tell those gathered there, and the world, about a dream that lived in his heart and mind. John Kennedy was president. Their next song implored those gathered, “It’...