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Memoirs of J. Sidna Allen: A True Narrative of What Really Happened in Hillsville
142 pages, paperback
First published January 1, 1929
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December 27, 2016
9/27/16 update: Floating this since yesterday was the 75th anniversary of Sidna's death, and he was aged 75 years. Never let a chance like that pass you by.
Original Review 2/5/16:
Sorry Sidna, I ain't buying it. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed this book, but I think your take on events is quite skewed.
Let me get the serious part of this out of the way before I start goofing off. This wasn't a bad book at all. In fact, I can see how it could be inspiring, especially for people in prison. A solid four stars. I know I've thrown this quote from Goethe into a couple of my other reviews, but here it is again because I think it applies to the author: "Nature, alas, made only one being out of you although there was material for a good man and a rogue." He seems to have had some great values, especially where work was concerned, and for personal responsibility in some cases (but not in all). I also see where he had some good morals in some areas, but he was selective about where to apply those. He did help shoot up a courthouse, after all. He says it was self defense and in defense of his family. This is possible, but it's easy to believe otherwise when you look at everything. He says he's forgiving of those who prosecuted him rather mercilessly, but maintains his innocence of the premeditated part, and tries to make it sound like he just happened to be there on other business, and checking on how his brother's trial turned out was secondary. This, of course, is poppycock. He doesn't say these things outright, but he spins it hard in that direction. Like all real human beings, he's complicated.
In case you missed the lengthy title of the book, this is Sidna (pronounced Sidney) Allen's memoir of his life, and a good 60% of it covers his version of the Hillsville Courthouse shooting in 1912 and what happened to him after because of it. But since you all took history, I don't need to retell that tale... Wait, you mean you don't know about it? Just what do they teach in schools these days?
Well, it all started in the spring of 1911 when one fella Wesley kissed this other fella's gal flat on the jaw at a corn shucking bee. A year later on March 14, 1912 Sidna's brother Floyd and some of his kin (including Sidna himself) were one side of a shootout in the Hillsville, VA courthouse that left five people dead including the judge, prosecuting attorney, the sheriff, a juror, and a bystander. Seven others were injured. Trust me, these two events are linked, but I'll cover that a little later. For now, just know that if there ever were a case of a great, big, boiling volcano being made out of a little old trickling spring, this is it. Ironically enough Hillsville is just a half hour north of Mt. Airy, NC. That town was the inspiration for Mayberry on The Andy Griffith Show which is famous for blowing things out of proportion.
"NIP IT!"
OK, OK. Well after reading this account by one of the shooters, and after discussing it with family once every year or two for my whole life (my family comes from the Hillsville area, and a possible distant relative is mentioned in this book, but he's listed as a damn liar which is probably true), and after another 30 or so minutes of research on the internet, and after having seen a juror's suit with bullet holes in it for myself at the boot museum halfway between Hillsville and Galax (it's not a museum about boots; it's a boot store with a local history museum in a couple of the back rooms), I can now give you the definitive version of what went on. They say nobody will ever know the real truth, but I assure you I have it. Yes, I know there were over 100 witnesses to the spectacle packed in the courthouse that day, and no two stories line up evenly, but they were all wrong with various facts.
You don't believe my accuracy with facts? Well fine. If you'd rather have it from a "real" reporter, here's a link to something someone did almost 35 years ago in Roanoke, but he's part of the media, and you know how they have to put a spin on everything. I guarantee my veracity in this matter is up to at least 20%, I have the truth, I tell you! Just hear me out.
First let's get the obvious out of the way. Here's J. Sidna Allen:
And here's J. J. Hunsecker portrayed by Burt Lancaster in The Sweet Smell of Success:
He was ranked 35th on AFI's list of top 50 villains.
"GUILTY! Case dismissed."
With a mug like that you're damn right he's guilty, but what is he guilty of? He didn't kiss the girl. He was tried and convicted of killing commonwealth attorney William Foster, but so were five other people. He must've been quite a man if he had to be killed six times. He had a dozen bullets in his brain, but it was all a fluke. Here's how it went down.
There was a blue tail fly buzzing around the courthouse that day. I know, it's odd for one to be tormenting Appalachia in early March, but you know how this bug is ever a harbinger of death, so it doesn't follow conventional nature. Anyway, it had been bothering Sheriff Webb and the Allens throughout the trial, and just after Floyd was given a guilty verdict, it landed right by the Sheriff again. Floyd pulled his pistol and shot at it but missed as the fly flew off and landed on the prosecuting attorney's head. The Allen's had had enough of the fly as well, all pulled their own pistols, and shot Foster in the noggin. The fly escaped but not without creating confusion. Some others in the courthouse didn't see the fly and simply assumed the Allens were trying to kill the prosecutor, judge, bailiff, etc. That was a silly conclusion to jump to, but they pulled their own guns and started firing at the Allens regardless. The Allens fired back, and gun play ensued for about a minute and a half before the Allens made their escape. Another senseless accident due to a silly old fly, ah discordia. Jim crack corn, but everyone cared this time.
A couple Allens turned themselves in, a couple (Floyd among them) were captured within a couple days due to injuries, but Sidna and his nephew Wesley hung out in the mountains for over a month while they were pursued by the most inept detectives Virginia had available.
"Inept. Do you spell that with one "n" or three "q's?"
Sidna and Wesley often hid yards away from these jokers and simply watched them traipse around the county for over a month until they got bored and fled to Des Moines, IA. Later Wesley made a mistake and went home to visit his sweetheart who was not the one he kissed at the corn shucking bee. He stayed for a couple of days, then convinced her to come see him in Iowa so they could get married. She followed him out there a few weeks later, and frick and frack followed right behind her. They got their men, and she got $500 then went back home to marry someone else.
At the later trials, all the Allens denied shooting anyone premeditatively, and insisted it was the fly dammit. Why won't y'all believe it was the goddam fly? They did admit to hitting people, but it was all accidental, and they only hit one person, and didn't kill all the rest; they obviously must've shot themselves. This whole defense argument was the inspiration for Bob Marley's line “I shot the sheriff, but I missed the deputy" sung so well here by Eric Clapton.
The new judge (they needed a new one since the old one got Swiss cheesed up) wasn't having any of it, threw the lot of them in the state farm in Richmond, and gave Floyd and his son Claude the chair. The wheels of justice were better greased back then, and they only had to stay in prison for ten months. They actually were supposed to be fried in six, but there were a couple of stays so they made their exits in March 1913, only a year and two weeks after the courthouse shooting.
There was a huge push from friends and family back home and all over the state and even other parts of the country to have the other four freed, and that eventually met with success. Friel Allen and Sidna Edwards (the nephew of Sidna Allen; I know it's like War and Peace with these same names) were pardoned by Governor Trinkle in 1922 though he really didn't want to, but he refused to pardon Sidna Allen and Wesley Edwards. However Governor Harry F. Byrd took care of that a couple of months after he took office in 1926.
And here's another connection to my personal life. I attended Harry F. Byrd Middle School in Richmond as a lad. There's currently a movement to rename the school because Byrd was a segregationist. If you read the local paper right now you'd think hating black people was the only thing the man ever did. Aside from his civil rights views, he actually did a lot of good for the state. He was fiscally responsible and didn't believe in paying for anything until the money was already there (I know; that's not something you expect to find in a democrat nowadays, but back then it happened sometimes). He was so popular that he won 15 electoral votes in the 1960 presidential election, and he wasn't even running! A lot of people didn't like Kennedy and voted for Byrd instead. I know it's not popular to even suggest that people might not have liked Kennedy especially since he was martyred, but it happened. You can find a lot of missteps in his two and a half years as president (e.g. Bay of Pigs), but since he was shot instead of just leaving office at the end of his term some people will never notice them, and it's taboo to mention it. I think it'd be a shame if they rename Byrd middle, but nobody around here cares what I think, and it's not a hill I'm willing to die on. But once our locals discover Byrd pardoned two members of the Allen clan, I'm sure his days of being honored with a school name will be numbered. I'm anxious to know the white-as-snow, free-from-all-sin person they'll pick to name it after once he's given the boot. Luckily this is Richmond where we can't organize a walk around the block without spending a decade arguing about every aspect of it, so it might be a while before anything happens. Although, publicly excoriating anyone who is the slightest bit off-color (no pun intended) with his views is currently the in thing, so the renaming could move quickly. Tough call on that time table.
OK, back to the book. Sidna Allen was an interesting person, certainly a hard worker, a shrewd businessman, and he became an accomplished furniture maker while he was imprisoned. His stuff is nothing short of works of art, some of them made with thousands of small pieces of wood.
These aren't even the best pieces.
Quite amazing considering the circumstances. Hell, I think it would still be amazing in pristine conditions. But those are his good qualities. His relationship with the truth is rather tenuous.
Yeah, it's just like that. Some of his past actions would raise eyebrows. The same can be said for his ancestors and other members of his family, and the actions of his brother Floyd should cause downright alarm in anybody. Sidna explains away what he can, claims ignorance for some things, and downright ignores the indefensible events of his family and their past. And that brings us back to the cause of the courthouse massacre.
First, the Allens were politically active in the area as democrats, but the republicans were in power at that time with bad blood running between the people at the head of that party and the Allens. Floyd Allen was a law unto himself and able to get away a lot for years due to his hot temper, even shooting a couple of people from time to time (one of them his own brother. This was over who got their dad's brandy after he had passed away. The brother shot Floyd as well, then they tried to kill each other again a little later, but it was all smoothed over later). The republicans in power were itching to make it clear that the Allens, especially Floyd, had to obey the law just like everyone else, and they got their chance.
You know Wesley kissed a girl that belonged to another guy named Thomas. Wes and Thomas argued over it, then went on home. The next day at church Wesley was called out of the service by Thomas who had some of his buddies waiting in the wings to ambush Wesley. Wesley and his brother Sidna (the Edwards Sidna, not the Allen one) fought back and sent Thomas and friends packing. Thomas was in cahoots with the republicans, and later Wesley and Sidna were charged with disrupting a Sunday school lesson which was apparently a class one federal felony during the Taft administration. (Thomas and friends were never charged with anything and they drop out of this tale right here.)
Wesley and Sidna didn't want to do time in the local pokey, so they hightailed it to Mt. Airy where they didn't expect to be extradited. The republicans prodded the two most pussified deputies in the history of the world to go down and get them even without a legal OK by the North Carolina constabulary. They considered Wes and Sid flight risks, though I can't imagine why, and they hog tied them and dragged them behind their wagon. On the way they passed Sidna Allen's store. He came out and said, "Hey, you can't treat them boys like that." The deputies responded "Oh yeah? Who's going to stop us? You?" Then Floyd stepped out from his own house across the street, the deputies went all French decades before it was popular, instantly dropped their guns, hollered that they surrendered, cut the boys loose, then flatfooted it back to Hillsville with their wagon in tow. In a prime do-as-I-say,-not-as-I-do moment, Floyd told told his nephews to go take their medicine in Hillsville the next day. (Floyd refused to ever spend any time in jail when convicted for any of his cases, and even coerced the people prosecuting him to pay his fines.) This they did, and they spent a month or two in the slammer. Meanwhile the deputies described what really happened at Sidna's store, how they were beaten to within an inch of their lives by the Allen brothers, and hobbled all the way home.
Everything for the boys was settled by the end of summer in 1911, but Floyd was charged with "illegal rescue of prisoners." Between then and March 12, 1912, several threatening letters appeared on the desks of the Allen's republican enemies, and various people involved claim to have been threatened. Quite a buzz was created as was always the case when Allens were involved, and everyone turned out to see what was going to happen. (This was before radio, to say nothing of TV, movies, and soap operas.)
The courtroom was packed with people bearing arms on both sides. The sheriff had his, the Allens had theirs (Sidna just happened to have his, and just happened to have back up ammo since he reloaded during the fracas), the prosecuting attorney and his pals were carrying, all God's chillun gots guns. This wasn't unusual during that day and age, but some people questioned the prudence of letting Floyd and friends pack heat given the letters and other questionable intimidation tactics that had been brought up. Judge Massie simply said "We will not be intimidated by thugs," even though two such letters were found in his pocket later.
Judge Massie may not have been intimidated, but he was certainly dead due to the combination of his courage and a stupid blue tail fly. Let this be a lesson to us all.
Original Review 2/5/16:
Sorry Sidna, I ain't buying it. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed this book, but I think your take on events is quite skewed.
Let me get the serious part of this out of the way before I start goofing off. This wasn't a bad book at all. In fact, I can see how it could be inspiring, especially for people in prison. A solid four stars. I know I've thrown this quote from Goethe into a couple of my other reviews, but here it is again because I think it applies to the author: "Nature, alas, made only one being out of you although there was material for a good man and a rogue." He seems to have had some great values, especially where work was concerned, and for personal responsibility in some cases (but not in all). I also see where he had some good morals in some areas, but he was selective about where to apply those. He did help shoot up a courthouse, after all. He says it was self defense and in defense of his family. This is possible, but it's easy to believe otherwise when you look at everything. He says he's forgiving of those who prosecuted him rather mercilessly, but maintains his innocence of the premeditated part, and tries to make it sound like he just happened to be there on other business, and checking on how his brother's trial turned out was secondary. This, of course, is poppycock. He doesn't say these things outright, but he spins it hard in that direction. Like all real human beings, he's complicated.
In case you missed the lengthy title of the book, this is Sidna (pronounced Sidney) Allen's memoir of his life, and a good 60% of it covers his version of the Hillsville Courthouse shooting in 1912 and what happened to him after because of it. But since you all took history, I don't need to retell that tale... Wait, you mean you don't know about it? Just what do they teach in schools these days?
Well, it all started in the spring of 1911 when one fella Wesley kissed this other fella's gal flat on the jaw at a corn shucking bee. A year later on March 14, 1912 Sidna's brother Floyd and some of his kin (including Sidna himself) were one side of a shootout in the Hillsville, VA courthouse that left five people dead including the judge, prosecuting attorney, the sheriff, a juror, and a bystander. Seven others were injured. Trust me, these two events are linked, but I'll cover that a little later. For now, just know that if there ever were a case of a great, big, boiling volcano being made out of a little old trickling spring, this is it. Ironically enough Hillsville is just a half hour north of Mt. Airy, NC. That town was the inspiration for Mayberry on The Andy Griffith Show which is famous for blowing things out of proportion.
"NIP IT!"
OK, OK. Well after reading this account by one of the shooters, and after discussing it with family once every year or two for my whole life (my family comes from the Hillsville area, and a possible distant relative is mentioned in this book, but he's listed as a damn liar which is probably true), and after another 30 or so minutes of research on the internet, and after having seen a juror's suit with bullet holes in it for myself at the boot museum halfway between Hillsville and Galax (it's not a museum about boots; it's a boot store with a local history museum in a couple of the back rooms), I can now give you the definitive version of what went on. They say nobody will ever know the real truth, but I assure you I have it. Yes, I know there were over 100 witnesses to the spectacle packed in the courthouse that day, and no two stories line up evenly, but they were all wrong with various facts.
You don't believe my accuracy with facts? Well fine. If you'd rather have it from a "real" reporter, here's a link to something someone did almost 35 years ago in Roanoke, but he's part of the media, and you know how they have to put a spin on everything. I guarantee my veracity in this matter is up to at least 20%, I have the truth, I tell you! Just hear me out.
First let's get the obvious out of the way. Here's J. Sidna Allen:
And here's J. J. Hunsecker portrayed by Burt Lancaster in The Sweet Smell of Success:
He was ranked 35th on AFI's list of top 50 villains.
"GUILTY! Case dismissed."
With a mug like that you're damn right he's guilty, but what is he guilty of? He didn't kiss the girl. He was tried and convicted of killing commonwealth attorney William Foster, but so were five other people. He must've been quite a man if he had to be killed six times. He had a dozen bullets in his brain, but it was all a fluke. Here's how it went down.
There was a blue tail fly buzzing around the courthouse that day. I know, it's odd for one to be tormenting Appalachia in early March, but you know how this bug is ever a harbinger of death, so it doesn't follow conventional nature. Anyway, it had been bothering Sheriff Webb and the Allens throughout the trial, and just after Floyd was given a guilty verdict, it landed right by the Sheriff again. Floyd pulled his pistol and shot at it but missed as the fly flew off and landed on the prosecuting attorney's head. The Allen's had had enough of the fly as well, all pulled their own pistols, and shot Foster in the noggin. The fly escaped but not without creating confusion. Some others in the courthouse didn't see the fly and simply assumed the Allens were trying to kill the prosecutor, judge, bailiff, etc. That was a silly conclusion to jump to, but they pulled their own guns and started firing at the Allens regardless. The Allens fired back, and gun play ensued for about a minute and a half before the Allens made their escape. Another senseless accident due to a silly old fly, ah discordia. Jim crack corn, but everyone cared this time.
A couple Allens turned themselves in, a couple (Floyd among them) were captured within a couple days due to injuries, but Sidna and his nephew Wesley hung out in the mountains for over a month while they were pursued by the most inept detectives Virginia had available.
"Inept. Do you spell that with one "n" or three "q's?"
Sidna and Wesley often hid yards away from these jokers and simply watched them traipse around the county for over a month until they got bored and fled to Des Moines, IA. Later Wesley made a mistake and went home to visit his sweetheart who was not the one he kissed at the corn shucking bee. He stayed for a couple of days, then convinced her to come see him in Iowa so they could get married. She followed him out there a few weeks later, and frick and frack followed right behind her. They got their men, and she got $500 then went back home to marry someone else.
At the later trials, all the Allens denied shooting anyone premeditatively, and insisted it was the fly dammit. Why won't y'all believe it was the goddam fly? They did admit to hitting people, but it was all accidental, and they only hit one person, and didn't kill all the rest; they obviously must've shot themselves. This whole defense argument was the inspiration for Bob Marley's line “I shot the sheriff, but I missed the deputy" sung so well here by Eric Clapton.
The new judge (they needed a new one since the old one got Swiss cheesed up) wasn't having any of it, threw the lot of them in the state farm in Richmond, and gave Floyd and his son Claude the chair. The wheels of justice were better greased back then, and they only had to stay in prison for ten months. They actually were supposed to be fried in six, but there were a couple of stays so they made their exits in March 1913, only a year and two weeks after the courthouse shooting.
There was a huge push from friends and family back home and all over the state and even other parts of the country to have the other four freed, and that eventually met with success. Friel Allen and Sidna Edwards (the nephew of Sidna Allen; I know it's like War and Peace with these same names) were pardoned by Governor Trinkle in 1922 though he really didn't want to, but he refused to pardon Sidna Allen and Wesley Edwards. However Governor Harry F. Byrd took care of that a couple of months after he took office in 1926.
And here's another connection to my personal life. I attended Harry F. Byrd Middle School in Richmond as a lad. There's currently a movement to rename the school because Byrd was a segregationist. If you read the local paper right now you'd think hating black people was the only thing the man ever did. Aside from his civil rights views, he actually did a lot of good for the state. He was fiscally responsible and didn't believe in paying for anything until the money was already there (I know; that's not something you expect to find in a democrat nowadays, but back then it happened sometimes). He was so popular that he won 15 electoral votes in the 1960 presidential election, and he wasn't even running! A lot of people didn't like Kennedy and voted for Byrd instead. I know it's not popular to even suggest that people might not have liked Kennedy especially since he was martyred, but it happened. You can find a lot of missteps in his two and a half years as president (e.g. Bay of Pigs), but since he was shot instead of just leaving office at the end of his term some people will never notice them, and it's taboo to mention it. I think it'd be a shame if they rename Byrd middle, but nobody around here cares what I think, and it's not a hill I'm willing to die on. But once our locals discover Byrd pardoned two members of the Allen clan, I'm sure his days of being honored with a school name will be numbered. I'm anxious to know the white-as-snow, free-from-all-sin person they'll pick to name it after once he's given the boot. Luckily this is Richmond where we can't organize a walk around the block without spending a decade arguing about every aspect of it, so it might be a while before anything happens. Although, publicly excoriating anyone who is the slightest bit off-color (no pun intended) with his views is currently the in thing, so the renaming could move quickly. Tough call on that time table.
9-27-16 update: It was renamed Quioccasin Middle a couple of months later. Quioccasin is the name of the road the school is on. It's a local Indian name which referred either to a lesser deity (Quiasosough) or it's what a meeting place or temple was called in that area; the Henrico hysterical society isn't totally sure. A suggestion period for renaming the school was held with one name stomping the hell out of any other suggestions (and Quioccasin wasn't even close in the rankings), but the school board was like "PSYCH! We ain't paying any attention to y'all; we were going to call it Quioccasin the whole time. We just wanted to look like we gave a damn what you thought." That's just how it rolls in Richmond; we're completely full of shit. The hands-down winner of this pointless contest was Alysia C. Burton Basmajian. She was actually a classmate of mine, one of the nicest girls, and a talented artist who lived a full life in her 23 years. Graduated college, got married, had a child, and was starting a career as an accountant. But she died in the World Trade Center on 9/11.
OK, back to the book. Sidna Allen was an interesting person, certainly a hard worker, a shrewd businessman, and he became an accomplished furniture maker while he was imprisoned. His stuff is nothing short of works of art, some of them made with thousands of small pieces of wood.
These aren't even the best pieces.
Quite amazing considering the circumstances. Hell, I think it would still be amazing in pristine conditions. But those are his good qualities. His relationship with the truth is rather tenuous.
Yeah, it's just like that. Some of his past actions would raise eyebrows. The same can be said for his ancestors and other members of his family, and the actions of his brother Floyd should cause downright alarm in anybody. Sidna explains away what he can, claims ignorance for some things, and downright ignores the indefensible events of his family and their past. And that brings us back to the cause of the courthouse massacre.
First, the Allens were politically active in the area as democrats, but the republicans were in power at that time with bad blood running between the people at the head of that party and the Allens. Floyd Allen was a law unto himself and able to get away a lot for years due to his hot temper, even shooting a couple of people from time to time (one of them his own brother. This was over who got their dad's brandy after he had passed away. The brother shot Floyd as well, then they tried to kill each other again a little later, but it was all smoothed over later). The republicans in power were itching to make it clear that the Allens, especially Floyd, had to obey the law just like everyone else, and they got their chance.
You know Wesley kissed a girl that belonged to another guy named Thomas. Wes and Thomas argued over it, then went on home. The next day at church Wesley was called out of the service by Thomas who had some of his buddies waiting in the wings to ambush Wesley. Wesley and his brother Sidna (the Edwards Sidna, not the Allen one) fought back and sent Thomas and friends packing. Thomas was in cahoots with the republicans, and later Wesley and Sidna were charged with disrupting a Sunday school lesson which was apparently a class one federal felony during the Taft administration. (Thomas and friends were never charged with anything and they drop out of this tale right here.)
Wesley and Sidna didn't want to do time in the local pokey, so they hightailed it to Mt. Airy where they didn't expect to be extradited. The republicans prodded the two most pussified deputies in the history of the world to go down and get them even without a legal OK by the North Carolina constabulary. They considered Wes and Sid flight risks, though I can't imagine why, and they hog tied them and dragged them behind their wagon. On the way they passed Sidna Allen's store. He came out and said, "Hey, you can't treat them boys like that." The deputies responded "Oh yeah? Who's going to stop us? You?" Then Floyd stepped out from his own house across the street, the deputies went all French decades before it was popular, instantly dropped their guns, hollered that they surrendered, cut the boys loose, then flatfooted it back to Hillsville with their wagon in tow. In a prime do-as-I-say,-not-as-I-do moment, Floyd told told his nephews to go take their medicine in Hillsville the next day. (Floyd refused to ever spend any time in jail when convicted for any of his cases, and even coerced the people prosecuting him to pay his fines.) This they did, and they spent a month or two in the slammer. Meanwhile the deputies described what really happened at Sidna's store, how they were beaten to within an inch of their lives by the Allen brothers, and hobbled all the way home.
Everything for the boys was settled by the end of summer in 1911, but Floyd was charged with "illegal rescue of prisoners." Between then and March 12, 1912, several threatening letters appeared on the desks of the Allen's republican enemies, and various people involved claim to have been threatened. Quite a buzz was created as was always the case when Allens were involved, and everyone turned out to see what was going to happen. (This was before radio, to say nothing of TV, movies, and soap operas.)
The courtroom was packed with people bearing arms on both sides. The sheriff had his, the Allens had theirs (Sidna just happened to have his, and just happened to have back up ammo since he reloaded during the fracas), the prosecuting attorney and his pals were carrying, all God's chillun gots guns. This wasn't unusual during that day and age, but some people questioned the prudence of letting Floyd and friends pack heat given the letters and other questionable intimidation tactics that had been brought up. Judge Massie simply said "We will not be intimidated by thugs," even though two such letters were found in his pocket later.
Judge Massie may not have been intimidated, but he was certainly dead due to the combination of his courage and a stupid blue tail fly. Let this be a lesson to us all.
April 19, 2022
APPEARS TO BE AN HONEST ACCOUNT OF THE TRAGEDY, TO ME!
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December 27, 2013Reality is stranger than fiction.
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