I Was There As the Sound of Shots Split The
I was there at each other, even falling into each as the sound other. Cops, both uniformed and in plain clothes, darted this way and that. A man close to me holding a small boy gently laid him down and of shots covered him with his body. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the lady in the pink dress thrust her split the air child toward her friend, clutch her stomach and retch on the sidewalk. Several people pointed toward the By Hugh Aynesworth depository building, at the dis- THE VASHINGTON T1MES appearing motorcade, at the police- DALLAS man driving his motorcycle up on he first shot, maybe because the grass to our right. "The president's been hit:' one it was so unexpected, sound- ed to me like the backfire of man cried out. "Oh my God, the pres- T a Dallas police motorcycle. ident's been hit." Standing on Elm Street, at the cor- "I think Lyndon Johnson was hit ner of Houston Street, I glanced too:' added another. slightly to my left to identify the Within five minutes I was inter- noise and, almost immediately, a sec- viewing as many people as I could ond and, shortly afterward, a third stop. Some were crying, others sur- rang out. prisingly composed. In those scant seconds, what had Later that day, I would learn and begun as an exciting, almost festive fall afternoon suddenly churned to- see SEE, page E12 ward fear, disbelief and chaos; fi- nally to a rumbling stomach and a heavy heart. ■ People started I recall explicitly my reactions for a brief period, but some of the twists and turns for the next few minutes yelling, grabbing at don't come back so easily 25 years later— not even with the help of my each other, even notes (written hastily on two enve- lopes) and the sharing of remem- brances with others close by.
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