I decided to write this today because the 24th of September of 1972 was the last day of life being normal for me. 40 years ago.
There are not alot of people who will read this
and know what happened. Most are gone now and many others dont
have the date burned in their memory like I do. It was a Sunday morning and the family was going to visit grandma and grandpa across town. I didnt want to go because there was a football game on that I wanted to watch and so they let me stay behind. I called grandpa and told him I wasnt coming over because of the game. He understood and said hed see me next weekend when they came over for Saturday cookout's that Dad always had. So, I watched the game and life went on as planned.
Grandpa Moore was the only adult in my life that liked sports. And he encouraged me to play, even getting me new footballs when the others were worn out or lost. He would take my brothers and I to see the Wichita State Shockers play football several times each season and it made me want to play for them;... and for him. He was the only adult who gave me positive support to try and play and keep trying.
Its funny. I dont remember who played in that game that I had to watch. I am sure it was either Kansas City or Boston Patriots, but I really dont remember. I went to bed that night, hating that I would be back in school monday but exited that there was football.
I am lost in the valley of depression, and its only because of one thing....
I was sleeping one night, it was cold. The dogs woke me up and then I was told. Grandpa was hurt, he was hurt very bad. I just overheard this when they told my dad...
And thats really how it happened. It was real early and I heard our dogs barking like crazy and went downstairs to see Dad talking to the police in our living room and mom getting ready to go somewhere. She never went anywhere this early. Then she left with the police and they went to the hospital so she could be with her mom, Grandma. Dad saw me standing there and said that grandpa had been robbed and injured. The police didnt tell us that he was already gone.
Years later Grandma told me that, that morning when they got up, he said he wasnt feeling very good and she had told him 'if you dont feel good, dont go in today'; but he insisted that they needed the money and after all it was a mostly sit down job. So he went in to work. He worked for 'Best Cab' in Wichita and had for several years. I had ridden with him a couple of times and that felt pretty 'cool'. That morning, he had gotten a call for a fare on 9th street just east of Washington. 'The blue light tavern'. Usually Grandpa didnt go to the more dangerous areas in town. He was a small man and didnt like any kind of confrontation. But it was real slow that morning and he was nearby. He had only made 6 dollars so far that morning. So he picked up the fare. He was a big man. 6'5" and over 250 lbs. He had Grandpa turn south on Ohio street and three blocks later, he attacked him. The autopsy said that the first blow came to the back of his head with a steak knife and it was enough to kill him. Somehow Grandpa got out of the cab and tried to beg for his life. A neighbor later admitted hearing the attack. He was stabbed 'repeatedly' in the back and the chest. Over 40 blows were struck and the killer took what money he had and the cab and drove away. The police found the cab several miles away later that day and Grandpa had one dollar, bloodied, crumpled in his hand.
They caught the killer 3 days later at his girlfriends apartment in bed, still wearing the bloody clothes. He was convicted of first degree murder, kidnapping, and armed robbery. He got an appeal based on the fact that the prosecution showed 'graphic' photos of the scene. But he was convicted again and sentenced to 25-Life. I found out in the mid 90's what happened. The memory of that time was real strong, so i decided to find out what the end result was. So, I called the courthouse in Wichita to see about a transcript of the trial(s). I was told it would cost 80 cents a page and there were over 800 pages. So I asked how I could find what happened to the killer and that started the run around. The records department had no record of him at all except the trial. They didnt know where he went or what prison. But I finally tracked down, with the help of the person who had told me about the cost of the transcript; I found that the murderer had gone to Hutch confinement for disposition. And at first, they had no records of where he ended up. Finally after weeks of calling and them digging thru records, we/they found that 'he' had originally started in a Kansas prison but couldnt get along with other inmates and had been transferred to Lansing prison in Michigan just a few years after starting his sentence. They couldnt tell me 'why' but he died of reasons 'other than natural' in '93 in prison. He hadnt seen his family or friends in 20 years. 2 days later I received a huge envelope in the mail. Inside were both trials transcripts with a note saying it was the only thing she could do. Its so much better than the death penalty!