To the editor,
When I completed my enlistment in 1973 I was so happy I kissed the pavement at the Los Angeles airport. Once inside LAX I walked past some protesting hippies. They were cordoned off, but one young man about my age yelled out “baby-killer” and spit in my direction. I suddenly felt very self-conscious in my Marine uniform. I just wanted to get my discharge and go home, so just kept walking.
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