November 22, 1963. I was in my first semester at St. Johns College, in Annapolis. I was heading out for a run when someone told us. No run. My father picked me up a little later and we made the drive to Hagerstown for Thanksgiving break. I don't remember him saying much, but then he was a pretty rabid republican. Anyway, what JFK means to me, more than anything else, is that he gave us the Peace Corps, which led me to Willy and our family. Peace Corps also, incidentally, led me to my career in creole language studies and my passion for the issues involved in nonstandard languages and education. Thanks, JFK...
Observations, thoughts, reminiscences, and occasional rants on anthropology, linguistics, old-time banjo, and anything else that crosses my path...
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