Life is a series of days; sometimes the days we want to forget, remember us. January 30th, 1972 was a Sunday, and the Pub on Trinity Street, in the southern port city of Baltimore, Maryland, was open for business; playing host to the normal Sunday in winter gathering. At approximately four o'clock Greenwich Mean Time, 3,278.56 miles across the Atlantic from the Pub, in a place referred to in the press as Londonderry, Northern Ireland, shots were fired. The news of Bloody Sunday reached the Pub one hour and fifteen minutes later. The lights would stay on long after Sam yelled 'last call'; with a handful of patrons now lost in thought; silently contemplating their beers. Just no one could have known how long before the glow from those lights would go out in the lives of some of the contemplators.