Year: 1963
Place: Dallas, Texas
…
Bash hugged his fiancée close and kissed her head. He had taken her to Dallas, where President Kennedy was speaking, as a surprise. He knew how much she adored Jackie Kennedy.
"Isn't this exciting, Bash?" she smiled. "The President and First Lady will be ten feet away from us in a few minutes."
"It's very exciting, sweetheart."
"I bet Jackie just looks regal. She always does."
"I wouldn't know. I am a man, after all," he gave her a teasing smile.
"You're right; I don't know why I'm talking to you about this," she smiled back. "Oh look Bash; there they are!"
Bash looked, and he indeed saw Jacqueline and John Kennedy, ten feet away from him. The President was handsome and the First Lady looked gorgeous, as always.
"Look at her dress! Do you think it's Chanel?"
"Um…"
"I don't know why I even bother."
Just then, a gunshot rang out. Bash pushed Kenna to the ground immediately, covering her body with his own.
"What just happened?" she asked.
"I have no idea."
They stood up, and saw the President covered in blood, and Jackie holding him in her arms. Immediately, he was hauled off, presumably to the hospital. All hell broke loose.
"Oh my God, someone shot the President!" Kenna screamed.
"Who would do such a thing?"
"I don't know! What if he dies? Oh my God, someone might have killed the President!"
"Calm down, Kenna."
"Calm down?"
"This has nothing to do with you."
"It has everything to do with everybody! Someone has to be certifiably insane to be crazy enough to shoot him."
"They'll catch him."
"How are you so calm about this?"
"You're alive and I'm alive. Nothing else matters. Come on, let's go back to the hotel. We'll get you a drink so you can calm down."
"I…okay."
…
They watched the news all night. Kenna cried when she learned the President had passed away, and Bash held her. They watched the funeral with the rest of the country, mourning the loss of a father to two young children and a husband to a beautiful woman. They were shaken up with the whole country. They had witnessed America lose its innocence, and it was a story they would tell time and time again, to their children and grandchildren.