Strange as it seems, I distinctly remember when Anwar Sadat was assassinated (1981). I was 12 and I remember understanding in that moment that you could die for your beliefs. This also marks the start of my political memories---or the decision to think politically.
my brother, John. . .he died in 1989 and I think of him everyday. . I miss him everyday. . I feel like I lost so much when he died. . he was so much more to me than just my big brother. he was the one person in my life that loved me for no reason other than that he did. .