7, 1968: The day after
Robert Kennedy's assassination
completed a hat trick of evil begun four years earlier with the
killing of his brother, followed by the slaying of Martin Luther
King and, two months later, of RFK. While the other deaths may
have been more tragic to more people, in one respect RFK's was
the most profound, for it appeared to shut the door on hope.
What had been with his brother a grim anomaly had turned into
a grisly habit. I was 30 when this piece was written for the
DC Gazette on June 7, 1968, two days after Kennedy was shot.
He died the day after he was shot.
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