By Jerry Mack Grubbs
The events leading up to this date started months earlier. I actually didn't ask Karen to the senior prom. We had been dating exclusively since the beginning of our sophomore year and some things were just understood between us. At least that's the way it was until the summer of 1963.
That summer the Cobb family moved into the house next door to Karen's home on Avalon Drive. Their son Glenn was a year younger than us. As Karen and I dated through the summer, Glenn's name surfaced more and more. I became agitated at the mere mention of his name. I knew that it was jealousy on my part that Glenn had daily access to my girlfriend. My feelings of jealousy were not so much directed against Glenn, I didn't even know him other than by sight. The ups and downs of my relationship with Karen had always been out in the open. But I lived across town and our time together was limited to a couple of times a week during the summer. The only reason I was excited for school to start was because I would get to see her more often.
Summer ended and the new school year began. School activities and football games were in full swing. Life at Longview High School seemed normal on the outside but inwardly I knew something had changed. Our lives were on autopilot which included plans for the senior prom. We laughed and joked with classmates and friends. The laughing and joking was only skin deep for me. There was an unseen enemy invading the calm of my life but I couldn't identify it much less put a name on it. I could only wait and let life unfold.
My life didn't unfold, it unraveled. You could say that my train derailed. My train ride began in biology class my sophomore year when a skinny little blonde traded places with my lab partner and began sitting next to me the first week of school. If it was a setup I didn't resist. You have to know you are being setup before you can resist or go along with a plan. I was actually too naive to even realize what was going on. A couple of weeks after the skinny blonde became my lab partner I still wasn't getting the picture.
My future wasn't in the hands of fate; Karen was leading this military maneuver and I wasn't even aware that I had been drafted although her mother would one day save me from the real draft. Plans were put in place to insure that I would get a clear picture of the battlefield. My friend Charles Hineman was dating Karen's best friend Leslie Duffel. Leslie asked Charles to tell me that my biology lab partner would say yes if I asked her out on a date. I remember asking Charles, "How do you know that?" His response was typical, "Are you stupid. She sits by you in biology and English plus she has traded lockers so her locker is right across the hall from yours." It now made sense why I had been running into her so much. I finally mustered the courage to ask her on a date and our emotional train pulled out of the station, picked up speed, and Karen and I traveled together along the curves and straight stretches of high school life. We had traveled a long way since those early sophomore days but Karen decided to change trains soon after the beginning of our senior year.
For her it was like stepping off one train and onto another. The train she boarded was ridden by her next door neighbor, Glenn Cobb. From hindsight it was easy to understand what had happened. She said all the right things; even shed a few tears of sadness that our journey was over. It is easier to be gracious when you aren't the one left at the train station. Karen assured me that we would always be good friends but our life together had become boring. I didn't ask any questions, I just listened. She said that I was also too predictable, I didn't appreciate her and I often chose to be with my friends instead of her. I'm sure all those things were true. By the time she was through I wondered why she had ever gone out with me in the first place. Even if my brain had been encased in cement, I would have gotten the picture this time. I didn't need to hear anymore. Like an injured animal, I licked my wounds in the privacy of my own mind and dropped a curtain over my heart to protect it. It took me a while before I realized that some people need to build a case against you so their actions are your fault.
I had no conversations with Karen until several weeks later. With the casualness of a princess addressing one of her subjects she said, "Jerry, I thought I should let you know the color of my prom dress." I didn't answer her. I was too surprised to utter a response. It had never entered my mind that we were still going to the senior prom. "You're still taking me to the prom aren't you?" she asked. "You can drop dead if you think I am going anywhere with you," I said. "You know I have always planned to go to the prom with you," she replied. "When we talked about the prom you were dating me, not someone else. Get Glenn to take you if you want to go to the prom," I said. "I can't go with Glenn. He had already asked someone else before we started going steady," she said as her voice raised a few notches. "Raise your voice if you want, I'm not going to the senior prom with you or anyone else," I said. I walked away, shaking my head and wondering if my pain would ever end.
Well, my pain wasn't going to end soon. After school I went to work at the Salad Bowl Restaurant located in the Holiday Inn Motel on Highway 80. The restaurant closed at eleven but it took us until midnight to get everything cleaned up and ready for the next day. It only took about twenty minutes to walk home. I resisted having mother pick me up after work because I was fearful that she would eventually make me quit because of the inconvenience of the hour. She was always up when I came in the door and would have something for me to eat although I had already eaten at the restaurant. Mother said that she had something to discuss with me. It had not occurred to me that Karen or her mom would call and discuss the prom with my mother.
I no longer remember who placed the call to mom but it didn't matter. Mother thought it was my duty to take Karen to the prom. It wasn't right for a senior to not be able to attend her last prom of high school, besides she was one of the ladies in waiting, whatever that meant. I told mother that I didn't care if Karen was a lady in waiting or how long Karen had to wait. She could ground me, punish me any way she could dream up, I was not taking Karen to the prom. I think I was enjoying some sadistic pleasure in this dilemma that my old girlfriend had wedged herself into. She got herself in the crack. She could get herself out. It wasn't my problem.
Wasn't my problem? My problems were just beginning. I thought my train derailment when she gave me all the reasons why she was bringing our relationship to an end was the last scene, the closing act of this painful play. The next call was from Karen's mother. She wanted me to drop by her insurance office for a chat. I knew what that meant. We met at her office when we were going to discuss the skinny little blonde without her being present. I knew Karen had put her up to this little discussion and I wasn't happy but I thought too much of this lady to say no. Was this pain ever going to end?
Apparently not yet. Karen's mom and my mother shared the same name. They also shared the same opinion that I should take Karen to the prom. I could understand Karen's mother siding with her but I was puzzled why my own mother would want to subject me to the pain and humiliation of doing this. It was asking too much to take someone whom I deeply cared for to the prom while all along she would be wishing that she could be with her new Mister Right. The more these two women pressed me the more stubborn I became. If Karen was panicking, I didn't care. If she was embarrassed by all the discussion of her missing the senior prom, it was not my problem. I was nursing a wounded heart and that heart just needed to be left alone. My friend Charles Hineman thought it was the funniest thing. His girlfriend Leslie Duffel had stiffed him months earlier and he was now over the hump and able to take a deep breath without feeling like he was going to break in half. I knew I would get over the hump too if people would just leave me alone.
But mom knew that leaving me alone wouldn't get Karen to the prom. She had a long talk with me about whether I was going to be a boy or a man. She pulled several cards out of the deck: the shame card, the guilt card, etc. I didn't budge. Mother knew where my stubborn streak originated and some of it was coursing through her own veins. She spoke of doing the right thing even when it was hard. I battled her over the subject of what the right thing was. When all else had failed mother asked me to pray about it and promised that she would not bother me anymore about the subject if I would agree to follow the promptings I felt. I agreed. I didn't have to worry. I knew I was in the right.
But I still had a problem. Being right doesn't make you good. Being right doesn't place you above the responsibility to extend charity. If you withhold charity when it is within your power to extend it, don't count on charity when you are in need of it. Mother knew me better than I knew myself. She taught me these things from my youth. I just buried them somewhere down deep and mom knew in the quiet moments of my mind I would rediscover them.
Karen's mother called and asked for a second meeting with me. She could usually point out things in a way that I hadn't thought of before. She explained that she wasn't siding with Karen. She said, "I love you like a son and I love my daughter. I don't want to see either one of you hurt. Karen is just following her heart. What are you following, Jerry?" Her question was like a revelation to me. I had already decided to take Karen to the prom because it was what my heart told me to do. But now I would take her as a man, not a boy. I would take her out of love, not out of duty, not because it was the right thing to do but because it was a good thing to do.
Karen looked beautiful that night. I treated her with tenderness. I opened the car door for her but she didn't slide over next to me as I got in. That part of our lives had changed. At the prom we danced cordially and traded partners with other couples. I'm sure that Glenn found her and they danced some but I didn't watch for her or require anything special of her. My arrangement was to take her to the prom itself, not to the rest of the all night activities. Leaving the dance, as we approached her home Karen asked if I would like to go somewhere and talk for a while. I declined. I thought about saying something catty like, "I don't think Glenn would like that," but I didn't. "Would you do it for me?" she asked. "Do what?" I asked. "Go somewhere so that we can talk for a few minutes," she said. "Yes," I said.
I drove to a spot near her home that we had visited often at the close of a date. It was awkward at first. All we had shared over the years seemed to be walled off from us like it had been two other people and we were just watching memories of them from a distance. She leaned over to give me a kiss but I touched my hand to her lips. She said that she had something serious to discuss with me. "I've heard that you have been seeing Susie. You know what kind of reputation she has. I'm not interested in second-hand merchandise. If you expect us to ever get married you better stop spending time with her," she said. I hadn't been out with Susie or anyone else. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I wanted to say, "I'll date whomever I please, but I didn't. I just looked at her, cranked the car and drove her home.
I gave her mom a hug as we entered the house. We visited for a few minutes and talked about the events of the dance. The look her mother gave me as I turned to leave was worth every minute of that evening I had spent with the skinny little blonde I met in biology long ago. I excused myself and headed home. I was glad that I did it and I was glad it was over. Looking back on it, both my mom and Karen's mom were right. . .taking her to the prom was the right thing to do but it wasn't easy. And sometimes we make things harder than they need to be. Maybe I was slowly and painfully becoming a man.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Snapshots
By Jerry Mack Grubbs
A book I read suggested that there are three major dates in our recent history that caused Americans to pause and take stock of themselves. These dates were the attack on Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941, the assassination of President Kennedy, November 22, 1963, and the attack on the World Trade Center, September 11, 2001. When I read that statement I was instantly drawn back into the past like there was a snapshot of November 22, 1963. I didn't remember the specific date but I certainly remembered the events of that day as they unfolded. Here is what I saw as I opened the pages of that old mental photo album.
"Jerry Grubbs please report to the principal's office immediately!" said a voice over the intercom. The guys sitting at the table with me in the high school cafeteria roared with laughter. I had been warned that the call was coming but I was surprised that Mr. Fields was going to give me an adjustment during my lunch break. By adjustment I'm not suggesting that the principal was a chiropractor in a prior profession. "Why couldn't he call for me during Spanish or English class? Just my luck to have my lunch time gobbled up. What was left of my meal would probably be gone when I got back to the cafeteria. If it was still sitting on the table no telling what my friends would have done to it. I resigned myself to the fact that lunch break was over for me. I pushed my chair back, rose to my feet and headed up the stairs to Mr. Fields' office that was located on the floor above the cafeteria.
Casually walking into the office I found no one there. The secretary was gone and from the open door to the principal's office, I could see that no one was there either. There was a radio tuned to a news station on the secretary's desk. As I sat waiting for someone to return, I heard on the radio that President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas and was being rushed to the hospital. I decided this was headline news and I was going to be the Paul Revere who announced it to the cafeteria crowd.
Running down the stairs taking two or three steps at a time, I came into the Cafeteria and shouted that President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas. No one believed me until Mr. Fields came on the intercom system and confirmed the truth about what I had said. My excitement of being the first to announce this news was short lived. The principal instructed us to return to our classrooms where we would be given the details of this tragedy. A hush fell over the students and a somber mood prevailed throughout the entire school. We were shocked and saddened that such an event had occurred and we were collectively embarrassed that it had taken place in our native state of Texas.
That afternoon in my study hall class I was busy playing tic-tac-toe with Ronnie Brown. Ronnie and I had previous history together. I still carry a scar on my lip from when he smacked me in the mouth, cutting my lip on my own teeth. The fight had occurred the previous year when we were on our way to band practice. He was trying to pick a fight with my brother Bill who chose to turn and walk away from him. Furious that he couldn't agitate Bill into a fight Ronnie picked up a broken brick and hit Bill in the back. Seeing what had taken place I thought that if Ronnie wanted a piece of a Grubbs I would give him one. I plowed into him with fists flailing. If Ronnie had any lasting scars from the fight I would point them out to boast of my prowess. I later figured out that Bill had no need to fight with Ronnie. Ronnie wanted to date my brother's girlfriend Patsy Walker and Bill had no need to fight for what he already had. But the day President Kennedy was shot, Ronnie and I were passing the time playing tic-tac-toe. That's how guys are; they can be mortal enemies one day and sit together and play a game on another day.
Ronnie and I were busy with our game in study hall when my old girlfriend Karen Young started walking toward our table. "Here comes trouble," Ronnie said. I looked up and saw Karen looking at me and heading straight for our table. She and I used to sit together in study hall but we had been separated for talking too much. That was long before she decided I was too boring to go steady with. She said it was like we had become an old married couple; same disagreements, same reconciliations, same weekend dates and so on and so on plus I was always working when she wanted to do something. That is why I referred to her as my old girlfriend although she was eight days older than me. I still cared about her but a two thousand pound bull sitting on my chest wouldn't be able to get me to admit it. She and I hadn't spoken in months. She was busy parading around in Glenn Cobb's football jacket that was six sizes too big for her. The tips of her fingers barely protruded out of the coat sleeves. Besides, it wasn't even cold enough to wear a coat yet. I was a senior and Glenn was a junior. It was humiliating that a junior had stolen my girlfriend. Isn't it interesting how some of us blame others for our problems. Glenn didn't steal Karen. She just changed trains.
But now Karen was walking straight toward our table. At first I thought she was just passing by but that didn't make sense. She had avoided me completely since the last time she tried to make light conversation with me and I told her to drop dead. I wish I could say that those words popped out of my mouth before I had time to think, sort of like being startled by a mouse in your lunch sack. But that wasn't the case. My mother taught me to guard another person's feelings as I would my own and to never intentionally hurt someone using the lame excuse that I was just getting even. Getting even when it is meant to hurt someone else only exposes how small you are. I was a small person that day, I knew it and Karen suffered because of how immature I acted. You don't treat someone you really care about that way. In spite of my previous behavior and to my surprise, Karen stopped right by my chair. I thought she must be going to make a comment about the death of President Kennedy. See, by now we had been informed that it wasn't just an assassination attempt; the president had died at the hospital.
Standing next to my chair, Karen simply said, "Would you like to go to a Cowboys football game with me in Dallas next weekend?" I hadn't been that close to her in months much less looked into those sky-blue eyes. During that time I had been very careful to not let our eyes meet in case she could read what was in my heart. At least she wasn't wearing Glenn Cobb's jacket when she came to visit. My heart raced as I thought about the implications of her question. Before my brain was fully engaged and I could think of something hurtful or sarcastic to say, my tongue revealed my heart and I said, "Sure I would like to see a Cowboys' game." "But do you want to go with me?" she asked. I hesitated. Before I could answer, Ronnie Brown said, "If he doesn't want to go, I will." I wanted to punch his lights out right there in study hall but from previous experience I knew he was a scrapper and I remembered the scar on my lip from his knuckle sandwich last year. The last thing I needed at that moment was a fist fight in study hall.
I could tell that Karen was nervous. She wetted her lips with the tip of her tongue and her eyelids blinked irregular. She was waiting for my answer. A part of me wanted to stand up and give her a hug but my pride wouldn't allow me to go down that easy. I knew it took a lot of courage for her to talk to me, especially after that last time she tried to have a conversation and I told her to drop dead. How do you tell someone with your lips that you will have to think about it but your eyes are saying, "Yes, yes, yes"? I resolved to say nothing that would wound this special person in my life. She never looked away, never took her eyes off me from the time she started speaking to me. She reminded me of an innocent lamb waiting to either be pardoned or executed. I have never forgotten that tender look on her face that day.
There is an old Indian saying that within each of us lives two wolves, a vicious one and a kind one. The one that prevails within us is the one we feed. I had tried feeding the vicious wolf and it only brought me pain. Today I would feed the kind wolf. Trying to appear calm on the outside while erupting with excitement on the inside, I couldn't afford to get too excited about the prospects of spending the weekend in Dallas with Karen. I was still grounded at home for the same reason I had been called to Principal Fields' office for an adjustment. I was grounded from everything except school, work and church. I suggested that mom ground me from church also but she just stood there with that stern look of disappointment. I knew that look and it meant "not in your wildest dreams, buckwheat."
The bell rang and study hall was over. I had been saved by the bell so I thought. The bad wolf part of me wanted to keep Karen in suspense for a while but I was honest with her. I told her that I was grounded and couldn't give her an answer until I spoke to my mother. When I explained my situation to Karen she suggested that we leave that problem up to her mom. "Answer my question. Do you want to be with me?" she asked. My eyes told her yes and I left it at that as I gathered my books and moved toward the door.
School was over and it was time for me to head to the restaurant at the Holiday Inn Motel were I worked as a dishwasher and busboy from four until midnight. The talk at every table that evening was about the assassination of the president. As I walked home after work that night, I thought of the events of the day and wondered if my world would ever be the same again. Few days are burned into my memory as vividly as the snapshot of that day when the shutter clicked; a picture was taken and stored in my mind over forty years ago. Where were you and what where you doing on November 22, 1963 when a president died in Texas?
If you are too young to remember the death of President Kennedy, you can share a remembrance of 9-11 or another snapshot of your life. My mother said that April 12, 1945 created a snapshot in her life. It was the day President Roosevelt died in Warm Springs, Georgia.
A book I read suggested that there are three major dates in our recent history that caused Americans to pause and take stock of themselves. These dates were the attack on Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941, the assassination of President Kennedy, November 22, 1963, and the attack on the World Trade Center, September 11, 2001. When I read that statement I was instantly drawn back into the past like there was a snapshot of November 22, 1963. I didn't remember the specific date but I certainly remembered the events of that day as they unfolded. Here is what I saw as I opened the pages of that old mental photo album.
"Jerry Grubbs please report to the principal's office immediately!" said a voice over the intercom. The guys sitting at the table with me in the high school cafeteria roared with laughter. I had been warned that the call was coming but I was surprised that Mr. Fields was going to give me an adjustment during my lunch break. By adjustment I'm not suggesting that the principal was a chiropractor in a prior profession. "Why couldn't he call for me during Spanish or English class? Just my luck to have my lunch time gobbled up. What was left of my meal would probably be gone when I got back to the cafeteria. If it was still sitting on the table no telling what my friends would have done to it. I resigned myself to the fact that lunch break was over for me. I pushed my chair back, rose to my feet and headed up the stairs to Mr. Fields' office that was located on the floor above the cafeteria.
Casually walking into the office I found no one there. The secretary was gone and from the open door to the principal's office, I could see that no one was there either. There was a radio tuned to a news station on the secretary's desk. As I sat waiting for someone to return, I heard on the radio that President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas and was being rushed to the hospital. I decided this was headline news and I was going to be the Paul Revere who announced it to the cafeteria crowd.
Running down the stairs taking two or three steps at a time, I came into the Cafeteria and shouted that President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas. No one believed me until Mr. Fields came on the intercom system and confirmed the truth about what I had said. My excitement of being the first to announce this news was short lived. The principal instructed us to return to our classrooms where we would be given the details of this tragedy. A hush fell over the students and a somber mood prevailed throughout the entire school. We were shocked and saddened that such an event had occurred and we were collectively embarrassed that it had taken place in our native state of Texas.
That afternoon in my study hall class I was busy playing tic-tac-toe with Ronnie Brown. Ronnie and I had previous history together. I still carry a scar on my lip from when he smacked me in the mouth, cutting my lip on my own teeth. The fight had occurred the previous year when we were on our way to band practice. He was trying to pick a fight with my brother Bill who chose to turn and walk away from him. Furious that he couldn't agitate Bill into a fight Ronnie picked up a broken brick and hit Bill in the back. Seeing what had taken place I thought that if Ronnie wanted a piece of a Grubbs I would give him one. I plowed into him with fists flailing. If Ronnie had any lasting scars from the fight I would point them out to boast of my prowess. I later figured out that Bill had no need to fight with Ronnie. Ronnie wanted to date my brother's girlfriend Patsy Walker and Bill had no need to fight for what he already had. But the day President Kennedy was shot, Ronnie and I were passing the time playing tic-tac-toe. That's how guys are; they can be mortal enemies one day and sit together and play a game on another day.
Ronnie and I were busy with our game in study hall when my old girlfriend Karen Young started walking toward our table. "Here comes trouble," Ronnie said. I looked up and saw Karen looking at me and heading straight for our table. She and I used to sit together in study hall but we had been separated for talking too much. That was long before she decided I was too boring to go steady with. She said it was like we had become an old married couple; same disagreements, same reconciliations, same weekend dates and so on and so on plus I was always working when she wanted to do something. That is why I referred to her as my old girlfriend although she was eight days older than me. I still cared about her but a two thousand pound bull sitting on my chest wouldn't be able to get me to admit it. She and I hadn't spoken in months. She was busy parading around in Glenn Cobb's football jacket that was six sizes too big for her. The tips of her fingers barely protruded out of the coat sleeves. Besides, it wasn't even cold enough to wear a coat yet. I was a senior and Glenn was a junior. It was humiliating that a junior had stolen my girlfriend. Isn't it interesting how some of us blame others for our problems. Glenn didn't steal Karen. She just changed trains.
But now Karen was walking straight toward our table. At first I thought she was just passing by but that didn't make sense. She had avoided me completely since the last time she tried to make light conversation with me and I told her to drop dead. I wish I could say that those words popped out of my mouth before I had time to think, sort of like being startled by a mouse in your lunch sack. But that wasn't the case. My mother taught me to guard another person's feelings as I would my own and to never intentionally hurt someone using the lame excuse that I was just getting even. Getting even when it is meant to hurt someone else only exposes how small you are. I was a small person that day, I knew it and Karen suffered because of how immature I acted. You don't treat someone you really care about that way. In spite of my previous behavior and to my surprise, Karen stopped right by my chair. I thought she must be going to make a comment about the death of President Kennedy. See, by now we had been informed that it wasn't just an assassination attempt; the president had died at the hospital.
Standing next to my chair, Karen simply said, "Would you like to go to a Cowboys football game with me in Dallas next weekend?" I hadn't been that close to her in months much less looked into those sky-blue eyes. During that time I had been very careful to not let our eyes meet in case she could read what was in my heart. At least she wasn't wearing Glenn Cobb's jacket when she came to visit. My heart raced as I thought about the implications of her question. Before my brain was fully engaged and I could think of something hurtful or sarcastic to say, my tongue revealed my heart and I said, "Sure I would like to see a Cowboys' game." "But do you want to go with me?" she asked. I hesitated. Before I could answer, Ronnie Brown said, "If he doesn't want to go, I will." I wanted to punch his lights out right there in study hall but from previous experience I knew he was a scrapper and I remembered the scar on my lip from his knuckle sandwich last year. The last thing I needed at that moment was a fist fight in study hall.
I could tell that Karen was nervous. She wetted her lips with the tip of her tongue and her eyelids blinked irregular. She was waiting for my answer. A part of me wanted to stand up and give her a hug but my pride wouldn't allow me to go down that easy. I knew it took a lot of courage for her to talk to me, especially after that last time she tried to have a conversation and I told her to drop dead. How do you tell someone with your lips that you will have to think about it but your eyes are saying, "Yes, yes, yes"? I resolved to say nothing that would wound this special person in my life. She never looked away, never took her eyes off me from the time she started speaking to me. She reminded me of an innocent lamb waiting to either be pardoned or executed. I have never forgotten that tender look on her face that day.
There is an old Indian saying that within each of us lives two wolves, a vicious one and a kind one. The one that prevails within us is the one we feed. I had tried feeding the vicious wolf and it only brought me pain. Today I would feed the kind wolf. Trying to appear calm on the outside while erupting with excitement on the inside, I couldn't afford to get too excited about the prospects of spending the weekend in Dallas with Karen. I was still grounded at home for the same reason I had been called to Principal Fields' office for an adjustment. I was grounded from everything except school, work and church. I suggested that mom ground me from church also but she just stood there with that stern look of disappointment. I knew that look and it meant "not in your wildest dreams, buckwheat."
The bell rang and study hall was over. I had been saved by the bell so I thought. The bad wolf part of me wanted to keep Karen in suspense for a while but I was honest with her. I told her that I was grounded and couldn't give her an answer until I spoke to my mother. When I explained my situation to Karen she suggested that we leave that problem up to her mom. "Answer my question. Do you want to be with me?" she asked. My eyes told her yes and I left it at that as I gathered my books and moved toward the door.
School was over and it was time for me to head to the restaurant at the Holiday Inn Motel were I worked as a dishwasher and busboy from four until midnight. The talk at every table that evening was about the assassination of the president. As I walked home after work that night, I thought of the events of the day and wondered if my world would ever be the same again. Few days are burned into my memory as vividly as the snapshot of that day when the shutter clicked; a picture was taken and stored in my mind over forty years ago. Where were you and what where you doing on November 22, 1963 when a president died in Texas?
If you are too young to remember the death of President Kennedy, you can share a remembrance of 9-11 or another snapshot of your life. My mother said that April 12, 1945 created a snapshot in her life. It was the day President Roosevelt died in Warm Springs, Georgia.
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