i was ten, going on eleven

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I took one look at him and said, "He didn't do it." His expression was this amazing mixture of rage and bewilderment and stoicism and other things I don't know how to express, but I was dirt positive about it the moment I saw him on tv. So maybe you can imagine how I felt when he was assassinated the next day. I loved Kennedy and was plenty upset about that, but this patsy being slaughtered upset me as much at the time... maybe still does, just for different reasons.

I linked this because it is good counterpoint to our fascist media... a reminder... evidentiary....

But in doing so I came across a playlist of Oswald's mother reading letters he'd sent her from Russia, and thought you might be interested in those too.
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I'm home. All unpacked and here. Cried my head off having to leave Poppa again. I think I must have messed up my sinuses from all that crying because dropping down off the Coast Range into Crescent City tonight my ears were popping like crazy. I stopped at the grocery store there and my ears kept popping the whole time I was there and kept it up until I was almost home. That was pretty weird. But anyway I made it home in one piece and so did Goldie.
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