It was a blazing hot day in 1966. I remember sitting in our family room watching this event unfold on television. A drama playing out without any meaning, which turned out to be the first of many in my life.
I was just days away from beginning my freshman year in high school and college seemed light years away. While I had no plans to go to Texas, at that time, I still felt like we had lost something, something precious. May those were feelings that all true Texans had that day.
Four years later, I was a freshman in Austin and the Tower was the center of our universe. On any quiet afternoon, crossing the South Mall, for a second, you could feel the rifle scope aimed at your back.