Selma to Montgomery, March, 1965 (I think). We were so young (45 years ago!). We were full of hope on the one hand, terrified of the angry white police and local people, on the other. We thought we could change the world; that if we weren't part of the solution, we were part of the problem.

It's seared into to my memory. Not so much the date, but the faces, the dogs, the guns, and the songs. "We Shall Overcome" we sang. So we believed, in the face of hate and anger and prejudice, love would overcome.

Images from that year:

I remember the dogs snarling and snapping. The woman next to me was terrified, and was shaking so hard. She wanted to run, but I held her and told her the dog wouldn't attack, so long as she stood still. Eventually, they took the dogs away. We both cried, from relief, I think.

Another time, they hit us with water cannons. I know what water boarding is like; you can't breathe. Your chest is compressed, you're pinned to the building, and the water is driven up you nose and you can't breathe. It's terrifying. My eternal thanks to the man who grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me into the doorway behind a pillar, out of the water.

You don't ever forget. To this day I cry whenever we sing "We Shall Overcome" and I remember.

The following year I joined the Peace Corps and went to India as a Volunteer.