This coming January I'll turn 50. The first memory I have of tragedy in America was the shooting of Martin Luther King in April of 1968. At age 5 you only remember that something really bad happened. Only a few months later Robert Kennedy also was assassinated. The only reason this moment stuck with me a little more vividly was the train which carried the body of the New York Senator. For some reason, the Battle Hymn of the Republic still plays in my head as I think of Senator Kennedy and St. Patrick's Cathedral.