Fifty years ago today I was sick in bed with tonsillitis. Most Sundays, my aunts and uncles and cousins poured into our house to visit my grandmother, Mama Rose. They ate, drank black coffee, and smoked Pall Malls all day and into the night. On this Sunday, my cousin Debbie--three years older, and wiser--marched into my sick room and turned on the small black and white portable TV there. And changed my life.