I remember 40 years ago today, though it began like any other.
It was a beautiful, sunny day in Murray, Kentucky, on May 27, 1977. I lived on Main Street, above Owen Food Market, one block from Murray State University. Just before noon I began a walk across campus. I had gotten as far as 15th and Olive when a new (and loud) Mustang Cobra pulled up alongside me. My good friend, Tilford Gaines, called out to me from behind the wheel. “Hey!”
I leaned down and saw Tilford’s excited face. “What’s up, Tilford?”
“I’ve been looking for you. Man, you have got to come with me right now!” he said, eyes gleaming.
“What for?” (I had learned to be wary of those Delta Sigs.)
“You’ll see. I promise, you will love it. You will thank me. Just get in the car.” I had rarely seen Tilford this worked up. And he wasn’t given to hyperbole, so I figured it must be something special. Plus, it wasn’t like my walk across an empty campus was all that exciting. With the college students gone MSU was a lonely spot. So, I agreed and folded my skinny, 6’4″ inch frame into the passenger side. Tilford took off down Olive Street like they were giving away free food somewhere.