The late summer of 1968 swarmed with activity for me. About to begin my senior year at Texas A&M, I recently had completed ROTC summer camp at Ft. Sill, Okla. which in theory prepared me to become a second lieutenant in the US Army.
Dad wanted me to cover a political meeting that Saturday night in Mount Pleasant before returning to College Station on Monday. He and the rest of the Tribune staff were busy elsewhere. Since his suggestions were to be taken as something stronger than a request, I gathered camera and notepad and headed to the legendary Alps Café making sure none of my comments reached Dad’s ears.
I had no interest in the American Independent Party whose meeting I was about to cover. I thought George Wallace a clown selling snake oil to the gullible. I had figured out Wallace’s “segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever” was on the wrong side of history… (a subscription to the Jimplecute is required to continue reading this article).
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