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So much I was ignorant about. I was very impressed with how LBJ got civil rights passed, and maybe I liked him because he looked a lot like my father. I blamed the continuation of the war on Nixon, and felt LBJ’s anguish over it. 1968 was a paradox for me, extreme chaos and happy times. That may be the definition of life.

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I've always called 1968 "the year of the national nervous breakdown."

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Also the year when I found a wonderful man. Maybe that was part of the nervous breakdown??

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