August 11, 2006, on this blog: How I learned that song
Summer between freshman and sophomore year I got a college van license. Only a handful of students had one, so if your group needed a college van to get to some off-campus event, you had to get one of us to drive you. Not a bad gig, usually, sometimes involving party invites or concert tickets. So I was usually game to drive.
“Are you free Saturday night?” Nelson asked me. “We need a van driver.”
We in this case meant the Black Student League, so party or concert, this promised to be fun.
“Sure,” I said. “Where are we going?”
“Ephrata. It’s in Lancaster County.”
“What’s in Ephrata?”
“A Ku Klux Klan rally.”
He wasn’t kidding. …