My interest in politics and public policy goes back a ways … to, oh, around 1968. I had just graduated high school the previous year and was floundering in college.

Military duty awaited me, along with the Vietnam War that was fueling much of the debate in this country. The war and the debate raged on after I donned the Army uniform in the summer of ’68; in fact, I was inducted on Aug. 21 of that year, which means I will commemorate my induction date in just a few days.

I had a preferred presidential candidate that year. It was Sen. Robert F. Kennedy of New York. He was possibly on track to be nominated that summer as the Democratic candidate for president. Then in June 1968 it ended in a hail of gunfire in the Los Angeles hotel kitchen the night of the California Democratic primary that RFK won.

I went on to serve my country. I returned home in 1970. I got involved in the 1972 presidential election.

Where am I going with this? At no time, not a single time, did I witness the kind of bad blood flow among activists and politicians that we’re witnessing now in the Age of Donald Trump. We are witnessing the tearing apart of one of the essential threads of our political fabric. It’s the fabric that tells us that civility and decorum have their place … even as we debate with every ounce of mental and emotional strength in favor of policies and politicians we admire.

These days we hear about politicians fearing for their lives, that their political foes could react violently. And I won’t be coy about this aspect of the today’s climate: Pols and activists on the right — especially the MAGA right — are the most guilty of fomenting this fear. To be fair, the violence has its roots across the spectrum. I will cite the gruesome murder of right-wing provocateur Charlie Kirk as a key example of how dangerous this rhetoric has become for everyone in the public eye.

Can we return to the good old days of fierce debate among friends in high places? I damn sure hope so.