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A book of poetry from Sixties written beside thousands of miles of highway and in endless gas station coffee shops at a time when home was the side of the road.
Shortly after the assassination of JFK on November 22, 1963, news coverage announced that security for the President of the United States was drastically lacking. Just prior to the assassination, they stated, a 14-year-old boy got lost and had ventured aimlessly around the White House completely unsupervised for 47 minutes. I was that boy. But I was not unsupervised. Instead, I was telling the Secret Service that President Kennedy was about to be killed. Things escalated. 50 years later, after searching the world, I have found a resolution. This resolution is my gift to America.
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