Looks like they just pried the gun out of Charlton Heston’s cold, dead hand.
I grew up in a smallish town called Needham, west of Boston and far, far away from anything resembling excitement or danger. Then I left town and all hell broke loose. I’m having a lot of trouble believing this happened. When I was a kid, my Mom used to freak out whenever we were twoContinue reading “Sad Times in Needham”