The trip to Ireland signaled the beginning of two fairly stress-free years, well...as stress free as being the President of the United States and First Lady could be. Jack had met the new Vietnamese leaders in the fall of 1966 which could've went better but both leaders parted with no hard feelings.
Blair was growing like a weed and soon she was running around just as happily as John and Caroline. John adored his younger sister and was always the first to comfort her if she ever got hurt while playing.
Bobby had decided that he would run for President and campaigning plans were soon underway.
Amongst all the friendly family life, press, and duties there were still problems but nothing that would've prepared them or hinted at what was to come in 1968...
April 4th, 1968:
Jackie could vaguely remember the last time she saw such intense fear in her husband's eyes. Fear that wouldn't cease to exist for quite some time.
She opened her mouth to say his name but he turned away from her before she could utter it. Jack took in a deep breath and wondered again why he even came to Jackie. He didn't want her to know about the violence and death that followed; they were supposed to be rid of that. He closed his eyes and willed away the intense feelings of sorrow. He knew that thought wasn't logical. There would always be violence and even if that dissipates...death will never leave.
He felt her hand on his shoulder and that's when he felt the all too familiar burning in his eyes. Jack promised himself he wouldn't cry but then again, who better to do it in front of than Jackie?
"Talk to me," she almost pleaded and Jack realized with a start he hadn't heard her say his name at least twice.
"Oh, Jackie," Jack returned, his voice tight as he turned back around. "Martin King...he's...they...," he quickly took in another breath to give him the strength to get it out. "Martin King is dead."
Jackie's lips parted in a silent gasp and her eyes clouded with shock. She just managed to get out the word, "How," when Jack responded,
YOU ARE READING
Tell Me 'Bout That Day In Dallas
Ficción histórica11-22-63, a date that strikes sudden dread in the hearts of most. But what if it wasn't that way? No assassination...no assassination attempt. Just another successful day on the campaign trail before the Kennedys continue on to the Trade Mart and...
