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Saturday, May 3, 1964

SATURDAY, MAY 3, 1964

I was fifteen in the spring of ‘64 and my parents had sent me to stay with my cousin Fred at his dorm for the weekend. My grades had been slacking and they thought a look at college life would motivate me to get my act together. Fred and I weren’t what I’d call close. He used to pick on me all the time when we were kids, and when I got to my teens I mostly managed to avoid him. But I was looking forward to the visit anyway. It was my first time away from home by myself.

Fred was in his second year at Blackburn, and when my folks dropped me off he really seemed like he’d changed from the bully I remembered as a kid. He walked me around the campus and we goofed around a while until he had to go to class. He left me at the student union where I got a Coke and tried to blend in.

“Change of plans, Davey,” he said, when he came back an hour or so later. “My roomie’s got a hot one lined up tonight, so we gotta make ourselves scarce till way after midnight. Though
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