Mom and I were flying home from traveling for my Ma Ma's death/funeral. Upon [our] approach to Detroit, I was just beginning to feel the Chicken Pox of which I was infected [with] -ya know, itching and barfing. Our plane was not allowed to land because of the riots. We circled, for what in an 8 year old’s mind [thought] was hours: one, before landing, and two, while I was infecting everyone in the cabin. [it is] Grim. So, kind of a weird memory but I remember 1967 with the confluence of Ma Ma's death, the Detroit riots, and Chicken Pox. I can nail all three of those to the same day... Analytically, wondering how many Detroit people around July 1967 got Chicken Pox.
