I have a reading problem. I can never just read one kind of genre. This disorder started when I was a child growing up in Hawaii. I would read the Hardy Boys novels that would transport me to the mainland, and then I would read non-fiction works like biographies. I am always in the middle of reading either a non-fiction book or a novel. This book came in today's mail and I am enjoying it thoroughly. The assassination of a president is a unique topic.
So far it's slow going and I suspect it will take me days (rather than hours) to get through it. I am fascinated by the confusing relationship between the eyewitnesses and the Warren Commission panelists. If you want the book, I recommend you get it used like I did for only a fraction of the cost of buying it new. What sucks me into the story are my memories of Kennedy's assassination when I was only 11. I can clearly remember all of the students in my elementary school in Kailua being assembled on that November morning and being asked to play taps on my trumpet. I was in the 5th grade. If this sounds dramatic, it was. Surprisingly, I didn't mess up the high note, and the passing of the president soon became a thing of memory. One does not need to be a history buff like me to be fascinated with this tale. Indeed, when I'm in Dallas next month I hope to pay a visit to the Sixth Floor Museum at Dealey Plaza to see what I'm told is a most interesting display. Studying the past can give us insights into current events. History, or at least properly written history, is about people whose minds you can put yourself into. I am blessed to have discovered the joy of reading at such a young age. What a poor and dull life it would have been otherwise.