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[Blue_In_AK]

47. 1953-1954

My 15-year-old brother accidentally shot and killed himself in a hunting accident in September 1953. As I recall (I was just seven), my mother went into a deep depression. At least I remember that I couldn't seem to make her smile. She herself was killed by a drunk driver the following September, almost a year to the day after my brother died. My dad and remaining brother were in the hospital for quite a while. I hadn't been with them in the accident, so I had to stay with my very strict grandmother who had no clue how to deal with my grieving.

It was a hard time for me. Everything that came later on the national front, the assassinations, war, etc., was disturbing, but, of course, didn't touch me on such a personal level.

In some ways, I think dealing with all that essentially alone made me strong. I can deal with crises that come up with a minimal amount of drama. I may not feel as connected to people emotionally as other people do, but I have no fear of being alone.