November 22, 1963, is a date defined by I will never forget. Sent home from school alone, frightened and attached to the TV, the day unfolded before me that even by today's standards was too much, too fast and too sad to grasp the entirety of what went down. My commitment to understanding it moved from passive to active many years later when Dr. Lawrence Klein, one of my personal physicians introduced to me by by mom, told me that on Nov. 22, 1963, he was a third-year medical student at UT Southwestern, doing a rotation at Parkland Memorial Hospital,...