People I know who’ve heard this story have told me that I should write about it. Lately, I came to think that maybe I should, since this is the 27th anniversary of the day it happened. This was the weirdest night of my life (mainly the early morning of September 29, 1982).
I think it’s been nagging at me to get this story out in the last year since the whole right-wing, racist teabagger-birther movement has seemingly sprouted up overnight. I think it can be hard for some people to understand where it came from. I don’t think it came from anywhere, since it was always here. I look back on that night and it helps me understand.
I want to warn you that this story has disturbed me for 27 years, and it might disturb you if you continue reading.
Read More