“THEY’RE REALLY GOING AT IT NOW. IT’S, UH, IT’S AUTOMATIC WEAPONS, IT’S, UH--”
POW. A heavy shotgun blast right nearby made me jump.
“Look out,” someone in the crowd yelled and everyone ducked, including the police officer right at our spot.
“AT THIS POINT, PEOPLE ARE STARTING TO SCATTER.”
Harvey was immovable and unflinching.
“PEOPLE ARE STARTING TO PANIC, THEY ARE STARTING TO RUN.”
Several diehard TV groupies now hauled ass up Pine Street. Others remained in kneeling positions behind the TV news vans.
“POLICE HAVE TAKEN AN ARMED POSITION RIGHT BEHIND US NOW AS YOU CAN SEE.”
“Move it back, move it back,” shouted an officer. “Take it on up there; get the hell away from here!”
“YOU CAN HEAR IT, IT SOUNDS LIKE--”
A roar of shooting cascaded like a tidal wave.
“IT SOUNDS LIKE--”
Charles: “THERE IS MORE OF THAT SMALL ARMS FIRE,”
Charles: ANOTHER SMALL CALIBER--”
Harvey: “ANOTHER VIETNAM HERE!”
Charles: “IT’S UNBELIEVABLE!”
Harvey: “IT’S UNBELIEVABLE THE NUMBER OF ROUNDS THAT HAVE BEEN FIRED AT THIS POINT!”
The roar of war filled the air and people ran for their lives. Eyes darted everywhere, especially the rooftops. Cops cowered next to us as their own machine gun’s firing bellowed just a short distance away. The cement sidewalk was a hard place for knees to land. We weren’t reporters and spectators anymore, but targets.
Just as suddenly, the shooting would stop and we would check each other over for, well, anything that wasn’t there before.