When I was a young activist in the 70's, I recall a conversation I had with an elderly Delmar lady in her 90's. Her father had been a Calvary soldier fighting the Indians on the Plains, and she arrived here via a Conestoga wagon in the 1890's. As she recalled her personal experiences to me, I watched outside her windows as bulldozers ripped up her backyard. Developers had finally forced her to sell her land for suburban development. Before she died, she wanted someone to know about her life.

A few weeks ago, I attended the wake of my ex father in law, Francis from Waterford. I hadn't seen him in over 20 years. I guess this is common when 'ex' precedes a title. It made me think about how we deal with relationships. You can interact with someone intensely for years, but even after you cut off the contact, those memories stay a part of your own personal history.

The family had posted a series of photographs at the wake showing Francis during various stages of his life. He was a simple man, no pretenses. A blue collar worker who lived the American dream. He served his country, worked hard, raised a family, and led a good life.

While I hadn't seen him in decades, I remembered that at each family gathering (frequently - they were Italian-French), he made me break patio bricks with my bare hands. I was a martial arts student and provided free entertainment for the parties. To my amusement, he would always put the broken patio bricks back into the yard. Needless to say, the entire back yard was filled with broken patio bricks, but he enjoyed it.

It was also good to see his many neighbors and friends, since I also had interacted with them for close to a decade.

It made me realize that all of us are individual time capsules. Our collective experiences are unique. Like fingerprints, no two experiences are the same.

I also started thinking about my own mortality and some of the major events that have influenced me - and there were many. Baby Boomers, of which I am one, have not lived dull lives. My generation has gone through a technological and social revolution unlike any previous generation.

In between watching "You Bet Your Life," and "I love Lucy," were weekly "duck and cover" school drills. Designed to protect us from the "bomb," I realized later it simply was a convenient way for the survivors to count the piles of ashes.

Amidst the constant threat of vaporizing, I sat amazed when Alan Shepard became the first American in space on May 5, 1961, followed by John Glenn as the first to circle the Earth on February 20th 1962, (again at age 77 in 1998). Glenn was (is) my hero and I knew then I was going to be a scientist when I grew up, or a ballplayer like Mickey Mantle!

My optimism was shattered in 1963 with the assassination of President Kennedy. A few days later, I watched Jack Ruby shoot Lee Harvey Oswald on camera ­ the first live telecast of a murder, and the intro to "reality" TV.

I suppose that was just a warm up for the next set of murders - Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy in 1968. The deeper involvement in Vietnam followed and tore America apart. I lost several friends. The counterculture grew. I had hair down to my knees and played drums for a rock and roll band. The Beatles, particularly John Lennon, became our spokesmen for the events we were witnessing. The resignations of Nixon and Agnew were a small consolation to this young liberal, although now in my wiser years I have some respect for Nixon's foreign affairs.

Many events later have shaped the way I look at the world. I saw us land on the moon and dance to the music at Woodstock in 1969. Some would call that two "space" events, but, amidst the peace, love, and music, we felt there was nothing we couldn't do as Americans - make great music or visit the cosmos. Pretty powerful stuff!

Then followed Kent State; Three Mile island; Chernobyl; the Challenger explosion; Tiananmen Square; collapse of Apartheid, the Berlin Wall, and USSR; Oklahoma City and the last World Trade Center attacks, to name a few. Even the passing of Groucho Marx and John Lennon had an effect, though I'm still a 'marxist/lennonist!'

Yes, I was thinking of all this at the wake. And, as I got up to leave, I was sure Francis was going to sit up and ask me to break one more patio brick, for old times sake.