It was the summer of 1968 . . . Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy had been assassinated, the war in Vietnam raged on, the Democratic National Convention rocked Chicago, we were a year away from Woodstock and landing on the moon, and there I was tucked away in Ogden, Utah. I was a 16-year- old kid spending my third summer as the clubhouse manager for the Ogden Dodgers, an entry level professional baseball team, under the tutelage...