"Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote..."
On this 12th day of April, a day in which freezing rain is blowing like the sands of time against my window pane, one might recall that it was on this day that the first confederate cannon fired on Fort Sumter and touched of the four year conflagration of the American Civil War.
Or that FDR died suddenly on this date in 1945 in Warm Springs, Georgia.
The Titanic was advised to beware of ice on this date as she steamed at a brisk 21 knots out into the cold Atlantic where other vessels were encountering icebergs all along the main shipping lane.
And on a Good Friday 39 years ago, when our nation was reeling from the assassination of Martin Luther King the week before, I was born in Norwalk Connecticut.
Things have been looking up, from my perspective at any rate, ever since.