Chapter two

Chicago, Illinois - Aug 1968

August in Chicago is usually a period of respite. And also a period of transition. From the hot flashes of the summer sun to the cold chills of the winter wind. Around this time, the fall wind enters carefully into this parched territory and brings along with it, the suspension order for the summer sun. Soon, in the months to follow, green leaves would change shades-into bright orange, then red and perhaps-a brighter yellow. Before falling off from the trees and adding their tinges to the earth. Occasionally, a few dots of these colors could be found on the leaves in late August. Sometimes in the evening, a sweater and some hot coffee might come in handy. The climate is serene. And the people, usually contained.

But the year 1968 was not a usual year. The summer had already come and had gone-taking with it, the mortal bodies of some immortal spirits. Martin Luther King fell slain and Robert Kennedy fell slain. Cities burnt in rage and the world wept in disbelief. And now the fall had set in. Stoking winds to the flaming world. Chiding authority ....