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Let's partner for all of it. Learn more at edwardjones.com. Good morning. I'm Jane Pauley, and this is Sunday Morning. On this morning, when many of us lost an hour due to the time change, we're beginning with a portrait of a woman who's long been living on borrowed time. But difficult as her life has been, she's met each obstacle with determination and defiance.

Qualities she needs now more than ever, as Tracy Smith will report in our cover story. So the first photo is of being my grandmother. The grandmother. The infamous grandmother. After surviving a harrowing early life, Julie Yip Williams has a happy family, a successful career, and an Ivy League degree.

How did you end up at Harvard? I think I was driven by a lot of anger. So you took that and said, I'll show you.

Yeah, screw you. Ahead this Sunday morning, she looks back at life's lessons in the face of her toughest challenge yet. We'll be taking a Sunday drive this morning. The first of many with Connor Knighton as our guide. This hotel in Colorado has the largest public key collection in the world. We believe we have keys from all 50 states.

We have keys from around 50 or 60 countries. The key to the success of a century-old mountain lodge later on Sunday morning. We're taking another look at the year 1968 this morning, focusing on the political earthquake that rocked America 50 years ago this month.

John Dickerson will bring it all back. Tell me about the year of 1968. There was a nightmare year. 1968 threatened to rip the country apart. The war in Vietnam, the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy. Riots across the country.

Good evening, my fellow Americans. And then there was the announcement by President Lyndon Johnson that no one knew was coming. Everybody was stunned. Nobody expected that.

The story behind the shock. Ahead on Sunday morning. Faith Saylee shows us some stunning art now on display from a Brazilian artist you're bound to be hearing more about. RuPaul tells Nancy Giles how and why he gets all dressed up.

And more all coming up when our Sunday morning podcast continues. The expression borrowed time is anything but a meaningless phrase. It's anything but a meaningless phrase for the woman you're about to meet. They're the words she says have defined her life never more so than now. Our cover story is reported by Tracy Smith. This is grueling.

Thank you for coming with me. When Julie Yip Williams found out she was dying of cancer, she wasn't completely surprised. I've always felt like I was living on borrowed time.

Why do you think that is? Look at my life. This crazy life. She's been thinking a lot about this crazy life lately. How it began and how it'll end.

It started 42 years ago in post-war Vietnam. Julie was born totally blind. Immediately her grandmother intervened. She set up a meeting between my parents and this herbalist and had my mother and father take me to this man. And your grandma's intention was what? To have me killed. Because?

Because I was blind. And she just thought there was absolutely no future in that? There was no future for me.

Nobody would ever want to marry me. I was an embarrassment to the family. But instead, Julie says her life was spared. So when they took you to this herbalist, what happened?

The herbalist said I won't participate in this kind of dirty business and he walked away. So the first photo is of being my grandmother. The grandmother? The infamous grandmother. She was three when her family fled Vietnam for the United States. They made it to California where she says an eye surgeon changed her life.

You know, here's my mother who doesn't speak any English, okay? And she gets me to this young pediatric ophthalmologist who's never seen a case like mine before. And he tells her I don't know how much vision I can give her, but we can try.

What he gave her was enough. But you're still legally blind. I'm still legally blind.

I cannot drive. I can't play tennis. Like, my dream is to play tennis.

Still, with an unstoppable will to succeed, she turned her newfound sight, considered a disability to most, into a competitive edge. And this formerly unwanted Vietnamese refugee earned her way into Harvard Law School and a career as a corporate lawyer. How'd you end up at Harvard? I think I was driven by a lot of anger. Anger? Anger. I had a lot of anger inside. And the anger came from my family not believing in me. So you took that and said, I'll show them. Screw you.

Yeah, screw you. In fact, her life is now filled with everything her grandmother doubted she'd ever have. Julie did find love with her husband Josh Williams, and they have two daughters. But at age 37, she was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. It has an 11% five-year survival rate. And true to form, for the past five years, she's been fighting with just about every tool in the oncology arsenal. So I've had multiple surgeries, multiple radiation treatments, multiple chemotherapy regimens, multiple clinical trials. How are you doing? I'm okay. But when all those treatments failed, it sounds like it's been a hard two weeks, though, since then.

Right. The cancer spread. We talked a little bit last time when I saw you about the scan that you would just had, and there were certainly some areas of stability, which was a good thing.

There were also some areas of growth. It's not like I'm going to bounce back. No, there's no bouncing back anymore. No.

Make sure I don't see your cards. Facing death, Julie says she knew she had to talk about it. From the very moment that I had cancer, my kids knew. Sure, they were young, one and three, but they had an understanding, some understanding at that age. Did you and Josh make a conscious decision? We are... To tell them? I don't know if it was conscious. It was sort of intuitive, because we're both such honest people with our children, and we didn't want to go around trying to avoid this, the C-word.

Mia is now eight, Isabelle, six. What do you think of cancer? Bad. It's bad for you. Yeah. And have you talked to your mom about it?

Not really. Because it makes her sad. Is that right, Mia? Why is that? Because mommy's dying.

Um, because mommy's dying. Do you worry that it's too much of a burden for these little girls to talk about these things? I think that, you know, I've heard these so-called mental health professionals say, you know, that these kids are just, they're fragile, they're going to break, and I think, you know, what I think of kids, they're like weeds, you know, bend the bull in the wind.

And they pop back up? As long as we love them, they're going to have the capacity to get through anything. Six-year-old Isabelle agrees. What would you say to people out there who say, oh, you're too young to talk about this stuff? Um, no, I'm not.

Why not? Because it's actually happening in real life and you don't know how it feels like. Julie hopes that through talking, her daughters won't fear her death. Sometimes when you practice your instruments, I close my eyes so I can hear better. And she's written a letter to reassure the girls after their mother is gone.

And when I do, I am often overcome with this absolute knowing that music with its special power will beckon me and I will be there. What do you hope to impart? I want them to find goodness out of their mother dying so young. I want them to learn how to live with passion and love. And I want them to also expect that no life is free of hardship.

Embrace it and know that you will come out on the other side stronger. Four years ago, she started a blog so her daughters would have her thoughts and words when they're older. I have often dreamed that when I die, I will finally know what it would be like to see the world without visual impairment. And in one last amazing twist, a major publisher has bought the rights to her blog.

The memoir will be released after her death. To see the minute details of a bird to drive a car. Oh, how I long to have a perfect vision.

Truth is, Julie Yip Williams has a sort of vision the rest of us might envy. The ability to see challenges and even death as opportunity to face them head-on and with gratitude. I've had this life, a somewhat difficult life, you know, where I've had to overcome a lot of things, right? But I want to convey within every human being is the capacity to overcome those same things.

We just have to find it. And now a page from our Sunday morning almanac, March 11, 1811, 207 years ago today. The day a workers movement famously said no to technology. That was the first day of the Luddite protests in England. Named for a mythical figure named Ned Ludd, the Luddites were textile workers who feared automated loom machinery would put them out of work and destroy their way of life. They fought back by breaking into textile mills and breaking up the hated machines, a violent campaign portrayed in a 1988 British docudrama. And I'm telling you this much, I for one am not going to be a slave to a bloody machine for the rest of my life. And though the original Luddites are long gone, the word Luddite survives. It's become a catch-all term for everyone from modern-day factory workers concerned about automation, to low-tech traditionalists who reject the prevailing notion that absolutely everyone has to carry a smartphone.

Ned Ludd may have been a legend, but more than two centuries later, the Luddites he inspired, like them or not, still carry on. Now on display the work of a Brazilian artist who is finally getting the notice she deserves. Faith Salie makes the introduction. In her native country, Brazil, all you need to say is her first name, Tarsila. For Brazilians, her recognition is kind of off the charts. She is the Picasso of Brazil. But in the United States, artist Tarsila Do Emeril is virtually unknown. James Rondeau is the director of the Art Institute of Chicago, recent home to an exhibit of Tarsila's work.

The exhibit is now open at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. Why hasn't there been an exhibition devoted to her until now? It's a difficult question to answer in some ways, right? We're facing issues of geography.

We're facing issues of gender. So I think this exhibition aims to be a corrective both in terms of recognition for Tarsila's work, but also in terms of how we understand the story of modernism. Tarsila is considered the mother of modern art in Brazil. Born in 1886 in São Paulo on a coffee plantation, her family's wealth allowed her to travel and pursue higher education, which was unconventional for women at the time. In her 30s, she moved to Paris, a single woman determined to become a modern artist. She was in Paris and absorbed being, you know, kind of current avant-garde trends, Picasso, Brancusi, Léger, others. She experimented with cubism and she kind of said, you know, I understand it.

It's not for me. She called it her military service. Exactly. It was almost, it was obligatory, right? And she was aware of a responsibility, an ambition, a desire to somehow represent Brazil, to be a fundamentally Brazilian artist. It meant painting her homelands, plants, and animals with whimsical surrealism and vibrant color. Not just the colors of Brazil's landscape, but of its native people too. The colors are absolutely beautiful. Vibrant, tropical. This is not a European palette, right? This is a palette that's trying to speak about her native Brazil and a Brazilian sensibility.

The leaves are hearts. You have a sense of an artist who's actually having fun. Her work inspired a Brazilian art movement called anthropophagia or cannibalism. The term encouraged artists to digest other cultures in order to create new unique art for Brazil. And they thought, okay, Brazil should be open to everything outside of Brazil.

We should assimilate that and transform that into a very specific and unique national culture. Luis Perez-Orames is a leading Latin American art historian and curator of the exhibit at MoMA. She accomplished her signature style in her 20s. A prime example of this is Tarsila's painting Abba Peru, one of her most celebrated works. The female bather. Tarsila took that on as a known and established European convention and translated it for her own purposes, for her own vision, but also related to the Brazilian landscape.

That example of the bather helps me understand the cannibalism. Taking something that's a trope in Western European art and turning into something extremely Brazilian. But after her most prolific period in the 1920s, Tarsila's world changed. She lost her wealth in the Great Depression and not long after a military dictatorship took over Brazil, her work became more somber and political. She became a committed social painter while maintaining her absolutely refined and masterful style. She did not abandon what she had assimilated from modern art.

She transformed that into a new kind of subject matter. Tarsila do Amaral died in 1973 at age 86. Decades later, she's remembered for sharing the beauty of Brazil through her paintings for an audience that continues to grow. Tarsila died almost 50 years ago. She's still very, very present. Very present, but essentially invisible to North American audiences. Until now.

Until now. 1968. A house divided against itself. When a president called it quits. Is a house that cannot stand.

Up next. The year 1968 brought a startling development almost every month, and the month of March was no exception. CBS This Morning's John Dickerson in his debut story for Sunday Morning takes us back. What kind of a year was 1968? It was really a horrible year for the country.

The action around Dokto has been costly to the enemy. It was a hell of a year. President Lyndon Johnson called it a year of continuous nightmare. Black smoke from riot fires in downtown Washington drifted over the White House.

It is true that a house divided against itself is a house that cannot stand. As 1968 began, Johnson was in his fifth year in office. He had become president following the assassination of John F. Kennedy, then was elected in 1964 by one of the largest margins in history. Now he was running for re-election. He could be compassionate and loving and caring about the poor, and then he could be cruel and tough and ruthless. Joseph Califano was Johnson's top domestic aide. We used to say people are moved by love and fear.

You have to figure out the right mixture. Johnson had passed sweeping civil rights legislation and anti-poverty programs, but by 1968 the war in Vietnam overwhelmed him. While trying to engineer peace talks, he continued to send more troops. Anti-war protests were increasing and increasingly personal.

That really affected him. Former Senator Fred Harris from Oklahoma was a Johnson advisor. He began to feel really beleaguered and I think he had this deep feeling, I'm not going to be the president that lost Vietnam.

Our patience and our perseverance will match our power. Johnson had the power of incumbency, which kept his chief rival Senator Robert Kennedy and other Democrats from challenging him. But one largely unknown candidate did take him on. Gene McCarthy decides to run for president at the end of 1967. How big of a deal was it that he was running against a president of his own party? Well, you know, it was thought to be a futile effort. Minnesota Senator Eugene McCarthy's platform was basically end the war.

I was the student coordinator of the campaign. Sam Brown was with McCarthy from the start. You know, the people just don't dig their leaders. I mean, Lyndon Johnson and the union leadership are not where people are. A lot of us liked him because he was intellectually didn't play the game the way most politicians played the game.

He was more likely to travel with a poet than he was with an advanced person. I mean, it was not your usual candidate. Brown moved his scruffy army of young people into New Hampshire ahead of the primary. It was 50 years ago tomorrow. If you wanted to come work for McCarthy in New Hampshire, you had to clean up your act. You had to cut your hair. You had to shave your beard. You had to dress, respectively. You had to act, respectively.

So it became kind of famous that so-called Clean for Gene. McCarthy had been expected to get 12% of the primary vote at most. But Johnson's optimistic talk about progress in Vietnam had been shattered by the Tet Offensive. The campaign became about the credibility of the Johnson presidency. McCarthy got 42% to Johnson's 48%. By any political measure, President Johnson has suffered a major psychological setback in New Hampshire. Did he beat expectation?

Oh yeah, hit it out of the ballpark by expectation standards. I am announcing today my candidacy. Bobby Kennedy smelled weakness and decided to take on Johnson.

I run because I am convinced that this country is on a perilous course. At month's end, the chaos of Vietnam forced Johnson to deliver an address to reassure the nation. Joseph Califano and another aide worked on the speech. And we both said, you know, there's no real ending. And what did that mean?

Somebody may be writing an ending for him, we thought. I do not believe that I should devote an hour or day of my time to any personal partisan causes. And then the world changed. I shall not see and I will not accept the nomination of my party for another term as your president. Roger, no question about it, this was a bombshell politically.

You really don't know where to begin. Johnson's shocking decision to quit the race was a desperate gamble, born of exhaustion and the belief that without having to worry about politics, he could negotiate a final peace. Everybody was stunned. Nobody expected that. Fred Harris was giving a speech during Johnson's address. Somebody brought me a note.

AP is reporting that Johnson has declared he's not running again. You want to read that to the crowd. And I said, no, I don't believe it.

I'm not going to read it. I know I was in tears, but I'm not exactly sure whether it was joy or whether it was a kind of history that was overwhelming, really overwhelming. The agonies of the next few months would almost rip the country apart. Four days later, Martin Luther King was assassinated. Two months after that, Robert Kennedy was assassinated. After Bobby was killed, McCarthy essentially became a recluse for the next six weeks. I think he made the judgment that some of his particularly younger ones in the campaign couldn't see, which was he wasn't going to get the nomination. McCarthy was right. In August, Democrats gathered in Chicago to nominate Vice President Hubert Humphrey.

The city erupted in violence as anti-war protesters were met with a brutal response by police. The Republican nominee was Richard Nixon. He ran against Humphrey as the law and order candidate with a secret plan to end the war. Nixon won. Johnson left Democrats wondering what might have been. He would have wound up probably with the nomination and with the election. It wasn't an automatic that he would lose. It would have been a tough role, but there was every chance he could win. Instead, the war, which would drag on for another six years, had claimed another casualty, the presidency of Lyndon Johnson. Thank you for listening.

Good night and God bless all of you. The deeply held views and partisanship of our times doesn't have to tear communities apart. Steve Hartman has proof. This neighborhood in Somerville, South Carolina, is predominantly black and no one cared when Annie Caddell moved in seven years ago. At least, according to her neighbor, Juanita Edwards, no one cared at first. When she came here, she seemed to be very nice.

Until? A little while later, she started putting up Confederate flags. Every morning when I would walk out to get my newspaper, that's the first thing you see.

My husband stopped going to get newspaper in the morning. And so began a very public fight. When the neighbors protested in front of her house, Annie invited counter protesters to stand in her yard. When the neighbors put up walls on both sides of her property to block the view, Annie put up a taller flagpole.

Her brazenness made international news. Once you get my hackles raised, I don't back down. I don't make no apologies. Eventually, the war settled into a stalemate of sorts. There were no more marches, no bigger walls, no taller flagpoles, just a quiet bitterness on both sides. Until just recently, when Annie had a change of heart, quite literally.

When you have a heart attack and you're being told you're not gonna live very long, you're facing your mortality. I needed to clean up the messes that I made by being so stubborn. And I have asked anyone with an earshot to forgive me.

She started with one of her fiercest critics, director of the local community resource center, Louis Smith. And she said, I have decided to take down the flag. I said, huh? I couldn't believe it. I was in disbelief. I went and hugged her.

Somehow God touched the heart. Not long after, she presented him with the flag. And Miss Annie, we thank you.

Today, a South Carolina flag flies in its place. And Annie is hopeful the walls will be the next to go. She's already getting waves from the neighbors and enjoying her new perspective on the world.

If all species of birds can get along, why can't we? Can we get people to be less stubborn without the heart attack part? That would be lovely, but sometimes it takes a serious action to happen to you before you see your actions on others. Annie says before, she only saw the Confederate flag through her eyes as a way to honor relatives who fought for the South. But now she says she cares more about her living neighbors than her dead relatives. You don't feel like you're dishonoring them? No, I'm not. I think I've done more honor for them now than I've done in my whole life.

And with that, our divided country inches a little closer together. Beginning this morning, a new now and again series we're calling a Sunday drive. Here's Connor Knighton. If you have a habit of losing your keys, you might want to stay out of this room. Set them down here and you may never find them again. These keys, an estimated 30,000 of them, aren't misplaced. Each one has been brought to this place, a hotel high in the Rocky Mountains, on purpose.

Small metal donations to the largest public key collection in the world. We tell people, you know, your first visit to the key room is free, but after that you need to bring us a key. Lois Smith is the owner of the Bald Pate Inn, a rustic mountain lodge that sits perched above Estes Park, Colorado. Tourists come to this region to enjoy the breathtaking scenery, but those who stay a night at the Bald Pate frequently leave a souvenir behind, a key. The hotel has keys of every shape, from every state, weighing down the rafters.

We've always stagged since I've been here and, you know, by the time I'm 100 I'll probably sag too. The Bald Pate just celebrated its 100th anniversary. It's named after a fictional hotel that's even older.

Do take care of it. It's the only key to Bald Pate Inn, the only one. Seven Keys to Bald Pate is a story about a writer who attempts to produce a novel in 24 hours. He holds up alone at the Bald Pate, a mountain lodge that's closed for the winter, but all night long the door keeps opening and opening and opening.

Should I let him in? Wait, he's got a key. Yes, probably the only one in existence. Turns out there are actually seven keys to Bald Pate. Earl Derbigger's 1913 comedic mystery novel inspired seven film adaptations, a smash Broadway show, and inspired the original owners of this mountain hotel that closes in the winter to borrow the catchy name and the theme. Legend has it that they gave a key to each guest that came, so each guest had the only key to Bald Pate. Of course, handing out souvenir keys got pretty expensive pretty quickly, so instead guests were encouraged to leave a key behind.

And did they ever? These are some of our more significant keys, key to Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, my submarine key there. A submarine has a key? A submarine has a key. Can you imagine losing the key?

There's the key to Mozart's wine cellar, to Jack Benny's dressing room. There's a key to the U.S. Capitol. There are strange old keys, like this scorpion contraption.

There are more modern computer encryption keys. Some are clearly decorative, some are surprisingly functional. This is the employee bathroom key to the American Museum of Natural History. This could come in handy.

You know, those public bathrooms are terrible. I'm taking this. There's of course every version of key pun you can think of.

Monkey, donkey, porky pig. But most of the keys in the collection aren't particularly rare. They're regular old keys, significant only to the people who left them behind. This is a baby's first set of keys from Oklahoma. This is a family's first house key in Minnesota. In the original story, the writer was told there was only one key to baldpate.

Today, this hotel has tens of thousands of them, and every single one has a story that unlocks a memory. He's all dressed up and about to launch the 10th season of his TV show. He is RuPaul, the master of a performance art with a very long history, as Nancy Giles now shows us. Since the ancient Greeks, men have been dressing in women's clothing on stage. Men portrayed women in the plays of William Shakespeare, and many of us grew up watching Flip Wilson and Milton Burrell on TV, or Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon in the movie Some Like It Hot. What's the matter now?

How do they walk in these things, huh? Then there's Australian comic Barry Humphreys, the irrepressible Dame Edna. Remember him with Bob Simon on 60 Minutes? And it wouldn't surprise me in the least if 30 Minutes found a little bit of this footage. 60 Minutes, Dame Edna.

Well, you're giving me extra time. Indeed, because you deserve it. Drag, wearing clothing of the opposite sex, has come a long way. Just how far?

Now, remember, if you can't love yourself, how in the hell are you gonna love somebody else? Can I get an amen up here? RuPaul's Drag Race is a top-rated TV game show, beginning its 10th season. Go! Contestants, yes, they're all men, compete for prizes, and the title, America's Next Drag Superstar.

At the center of it all, RuPaul, arguably the most successful drag performer of all time, and the winner of not one, but two Emmy Awards. What's going on? Nothing, go ahead. No, tell me about it. It's on track to become VH1's most watched series. I am your family.

We are a family here. I think RuPaul's Drag Race at its core is about the tenacity of the human spirit. I love you.

I love you. To watch a boy play with feminine things in a society that is so masculine and come through it and find their fire and their own voice is a very powerful thing. It's not just a TV show. Fans line up at his pop-up store in Los Angeles to buy RuPaul merchandise.

He's a great role model for sure. Even my family, who is from the conservative Midwest, has watched RuPaul's Drag Race and really loves it. And some people might say I'm fake. And Thursday nights are drag nights at gay bars across the country. They just happen. That's the great part. Chris McCarthy is president of VH1.

It happens in every city all over the country, and in many places, the smaller the city, the bigger the party. And yet I know that there are probably people who don't really dig what you do. What would you say to them?

What other people think of me is none of my business, but I also know that this show is for the kids out there who are looking for some type of guidance. These kids on our show have been through hell, literally. Their families have thrown them out of the house. They've been abused and beaten up. But they have come through and shined. That is the lesson right there. RuPaul Andre Charles was born in San Diego in 1960.

Almost from the first, let's just say he stood out in the crowd. People in my family, my mother, my father, basically ignored it. You know, it wasn't something that they knew how to deal with. You know, the kids in the neighborhood say, you're a sissy.

I'm like, oh, OK, you know. But because I am a sweetheart, no one ever really came for me in a really negative way. He says his parents' marriage was not a good one. At age 15, RuPaul moved to Atlanta to live with his sister. And not long afterward, RuPaul Andre Charles became RuPaul. I was always looking for the way to fit onto this planet. And I love to dress up. Through drag, I was able to find who I really am, period.

He danced in bars and joined bands. Drag was never about wanting to be like a woman. It was always about challenging identity values of society. And saying, I am whatever I put on. I think drag is an escape. It allows them to be somebody that maybe they aren't in real life.

Michelle Visage is a longtime friend and a female judge on the show. And I tell parents that are religious or don't want to accept their gay child, that they don't have to approve it. They just have to accept it. Their kids aren't looking for their approval.

Just accept them for who they are. I want to go further. I want to take my RuPaul message to the world. RuPaul says he found acceptance when he moved to New York. He appeared in the famous B-52's Love Shack video. Then he was the guy, a girl, in the super dance hit, Supermodel. Welcome back from the break. Did you miss me? Soon, there were radio and TV shows. Thanks to RuPaul, drag has come a long way. Oh, look.

Oh, it's lined on the inside. He's come a long way, too. He's the guy, a girl, in the super dance hit, Supermodel. He's come a long way, too.

Today, he's living his dreams. This is my latest car. Meet RuPaul, collector of vintage autos.

What is this? I know it's a Mercedes. Yeah, it's a 1968 280 SL. That is a badass car. I love it so much. Then, a few years ago, he met George Labarre, an Australian painter and rancher.

They married last year. And consider this. In 2017, Time magazine named RuPaul one of the most influential people in the world. I didn't set out to do that, but I was smart enough to realize this is my calling.

You have to be open enough to hear the universe's stage direction. I'm Jane Pauley. Thank you for listening, and please join us again next Sunday morning. See you next time.