Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show. To begin my life with the beginning of my life, I record that I was born…David Copperfield
In the year that President Kennedy died, I arrived in the world at St. Francis Hospital, in the Lawrenceville neighborhood of Pittsburgh.
It wasn’t falling down then.
Fun Fact: world renowned pianist and understated dresser Liberace was in Pittsburgh the very day of Kennedy’s assassination, but his show was cancelled.
I can’t imagine why.
As he prepared for the show on the next day, a snowstorm snarled traffic forcing him to clean his outfits by hand, using a spray bottle of dry cleaning fluid, in an unvented room. Surprisingly, he was able to get on stage and perform his first number before collapsing from the potentially fatal dose of carbon tetrachloride he had unknowingly been snorting. Kidneys failing, he was rushed to St. Francis, where he underwent a revolutionary new procedure – hemodialysis, which saved his life. Unless it was the intercession of a mysterious figure in a white habit, who encouraged the entertainer to pray to Saint Anthony.