Have you seen the movie THE SANDLOT?

Well, that was pretty much my childhood. As a ten year old, it seemed the mysteries of life came alive through baseball. This is a story straight out of those glory days of playing baseball on the diamonds of Southern California, of the smell of cut grass in the outfield, of hitting impossible homers on and off the field. And of ghosts.

This story is very much about the ghosts of childhood. You won't believe where this story goes.

Hear this creative nonfiction account of the damage wrought by an assassin's bullet!

A shot rings out and a King dies. But for 64 minutes, the issue is in doubt.

At 6:01 pm on April 4th, 1968, Martin Luther King was shot. He was pronounced dead at 7:05 pm at St. Joseph's Hospital in Memphis, TN after a failed attempt at open cardiac massage. He was 39 years old.

King was standing on the balcony outside room 306 on the second floor of the Lorraine Motel when, in the words of biographer Taylor Branch, time on the balcony turned lethal and King's sojourn on earth went blank.