On May 15, 1972, Daddy jumped up from the breakfast table with a glass of milk in his hand. “Where are you going?” I said. “To Maryland,” he said. “Have two stops then right back home. Tell the ladies in the kitchen to fix a nice dinner for us. And make sure they have enough ketchup,” he said, as he gave me a kiss and a sideways hug. The mansion door, kitchen door, opened then shut. I heard daddy walking down the concrete steps. Then over to the car. “Let’s go fellas,” he said to his guards and driver. “We have to stop two stops on the schedule. Last one is Laurel, Maryland.”
A little after 3 p.m. at the Laurel shopping center in Laurel, Maryland., Daddy was shot five times. One of the bullets lodged in his spine.