40 years ago
: I was in my classroom in Westfield Friends School in Cinnaminson, NJ. The janitor — who was also the pastor of a poor, black church; the man radiated calm and piece — came to the door and pulled our teacher out. They talked for a few minutes. I remember his stricken face as he pointed his finger at his temple. I think I remember him crying. The teacher came back in and soon we were on our bus, waiting to go home. And I remember thinking only that I did not understand.
: UPDATE: Read Terry Teachout’s reflections. I’m two years older than Terry and thus live just on the other side of the divide he writes about.
