The Pristine Bullet Hit Me

There have been many video documentaries about the assassination of President Kennedy.  During one of those programs, the commentator said something rather striking and true.  He said, ‘Although we can show you images from that time, what we can’t do is convey the emotions of those days.’  And he was absolutely right.  Young people can read about John Kennedy but they can’t feel how it was to have him as the leader of our country.  What I’ve tried to do with this book is to take to you back to the time of John F. Kennedy.  The late 50s and early 60s were truly a different time than our cell phone, Internet, virtual reality world of today.  Ironically, without JFK and his forward thinking we might not have this technical maze.  Indeed without his leadership during the Cuban missile crisis, we might not even be here today.  This story is part history; I worked hard to get every fact correct.  It’s partly personal, to give you a feel of the time, I am sharing with you every emotion I clearly recall of those days.  But I guess mostly, this true story, is an extended love letter.  I loved John F. Kennedy and when he was shot in Dallas, those bullets also wounded me, a ​twelve-year-old boy 1500 miles away.  

Since that time, I’ve lost my mother, father and brother, but I never cried at their funerals.  Oh, I cared and loved them deeply.  But I think all of my emotions were shredded and permanently damaged when that damned coward killed my president.
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And I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.

Both artist conceptions by Christian Bonilla