no, not up-state in a bar. (Thanks Lou, and R.I.P.) I was in the dining room. My mother was in the foyer, standing under her tea cup collection. Her face was in her hands. She was crying, hard. My two older brothers were coming home from school early; she was waiting by the door for them.
When my father came home, (and this may be just acquired memory), he sent us out to play until darkness fell, but he admonished us not to make too much noise at the same time.
That was my fourth birthday.
How 'bout you? What do you remember from that day, fifty years ago?