On seeing the future too clearly
I SPENT the summer of 1965 arguing about the Vietnam War. I was 13, and my interlocutor was my 18-year-old camp counsellor in Vermont. She was headed for UC Berkeley in the fall, where she would, as she later described it, 鈥榤ajor in history and minor in rioting.鈥� Meanwhile, I was headed back to junior high school. I was already convinced that our government was...