On June 19, 1986, I was home from college and taking a history class in the summer session at the local junior college in my hometown.  It was around 7:30 p.m. and the instructor was lecturing about the importance of the civil war.  Yada yada yada…  I simply didn’t feel like being there.  So after a few minutes had passed, I got up from my seat and quietly walked out of the room.  I went to my mother’s house, which is where I stayed in the summer awaiting the fall semester to begin.   I arrived at home to find a note on the kitchen table from my mother.

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