At the end of the eight-part miniseries The Kennedys, he found himself leaning out of his chair, staring down at the ground, and unexpectedly awash in emotion, saying one word, “Kendra!”
He started when he said her name. He’d never said it aloud before. Not when he was alone. He was not the type to talk to himself. Hmm. What was he feeling? It was definitely sadness. Why? Why did a TV series about the Kennedys remind him of his own life? He guessed it was the myth of Camelot. The senseless deaths. The brutal conflicts. The family unit sacrificed on the altar of public service.
It’d been years since he thought about Glacier View, Kendra, her family and that summer of discontent.
