April 12, 2010

Sixty-Five years ago

I remember the day that Franklin Delano Roosevelt died. I was four years old. As I walked home from school (kindergarden) in Saint Paul, Minnesota. I saw and unusual sight . Every adult I passed was crying. I’d never seen anything like it.

When I arrived home, my Mother was there. She had been crying too. When I asked her why everyone was crying, she told me that the President had died. That was 65 years ago today.

Early memories never leave.

Posted by Judi at April 12, 2010 9:48 PM | TrackBack
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