I was almost five years old when the announcement of Roosevelt’s death came across the radio in Dallas. I was playing with toys in the bedroom while my folks were socializing with some friends in our kitchen.
Somehow I knew that it was an important announcement and I went into the kitchen and told them about it. They didn’t believe me at first, but finally listened to the radio and heard the repeating announcements and follow ups. Their grieving reaction cemented the moment in my mind forever.
I was 12 then and listening to "Mandrake the Magician", and as usual he was in a tight spot. I was sweating bullets over how he would get out of this one when the announcer broke in with the news - and then kept repeating it.
"OK, OK, the guy is dead, too bad . . .", I fumed (Republican household) ". . . but WHAT happened to Mandrake?". I never did find out due to that blasted announcer, but next week Mandrake was back on, so he must have gotten out OK. I wondered how he did it for weeks after.