I always thought I grew up in a crazy time of our country’s history.

I was sent home in first grade early from school as my teacher cried in front of the class, telling us “something terrible” had happened to the president.

It was the first of a trio of assassinations that would rob the country of good men who were taken all too soon — John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy. Before the summer of 1968 all would be gone in a span of less than five years.

As a student growing up in this timeframe I remember nuclear fallout drills as my classmates and I crawled under our desks. I remember waiting in line to get the polio vaccine. I remember civil rights marches, Vietnam protests, environmental rallies, women’s rights gatherings and of course, the music.

It was the time of “Hell no, we won’t go” and the draft.

It was the time of drug experimentation through new things like LSD. Women burned their bras. A river in Cleveland — the Cuyahoga — caught on fire from all the pollution in it and Neil Armstrong became the first man to walk on the moon.

From the Civil Rights movement in Selma to the Vietnam War protests at Kent State, it was a time of turmoil and tragedy for our country.

Before my freshman year in college a president would resign in disgrace, while a relatively likeable guy from Grand Rapids would become his replacement.

Growing up through those years I observed, read and watched this period unfold around me. It helped to shape my professional passion and, ultimately, my career.

Later, as I grew older and reflected back on my life, I always have been struck with the fact that so much history unfolded during those school age years. Yet never, never in a million years, would I have expected to see it come back around, almost as if in a full circle, to what life is like this year.

I never would have imagined the possible need for my grandchildren to have to participate in a nuclear fallout drill in their school classrooms. I thought world leaders had learned the lesson that the world couldn’t sustain another attack — ever!

Yet here we are.

I never would have imagined that my grandchildren would live in a time where racial intolerance, bigotry and prejudice still existed.

Yet here we are.

I never would have imagined that my grandchildren would live in a world of hate, terror and ignorance.

Yet here we are.

I never would have imagined that my grandchildren would have to worry about terrorism, religious intolerance and eroding civil liberties.

Yet here we are.

I never would have imagined that my grandchildren would still live in a world filled with drug and alcohol abuse, depression and abortion.

Yet here we are.

I never would have imagined that my grandchildren would live in a world such as it is today.

Yet here we are.

It makes me very sad. I have worked all my life to make it so much better, yet incidents like those last weekend remind me that the world still is full of ignorant, angry and mean people.

If I had my way every one of the people in Charlottesville last week would be made to spend a day at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum, the National Museum of African American History and Culture and a day touring the battlefields at Gettysburg.

Then, and only then, might they “get it” and realize there is so much more to life than what they were protesting about last weekend.

Free speech is a wonderful right and privilege.

It also can be a dangerous weapon when used improperly and incites gatherings into “imminent lawless action.”

I never would have imagined …

Yet here we are.

Bill Speer can be reached via email at bspeer@thealpenanews.com or by phone at 354-3111 ext. 331. Follow Bill on Twitter @billspeer13.