TMC
01-15-2016, 11:55 PM
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-michael-conner/the-tragic-gunshot-that-r_b_8937908.html?ncid=txtlnkusaolp00000592
The Lucille Ball we all know and love was the product of lifelong determination; she was a living example of how practice and patience make perfect. Despite legendary comedic talents and abundant career opportunities--Ball was well known as "the queen of the B movies" by major movie studios and audiences for a decade--the beauty eventually decided she'd never really achieve the acclaim she had hoped. She ultimately settled for a little television show that bore her name, I Love Lucy, at the ripe old age of 40. You know what happened next.
What you may not know is that Ball overcame a great deal of tragedy throughout her life, from being rendered bedbound in her youth for three years with a mysterious acute case of arthritis that miraculously resolved itself completely to surviving Hollywood's infamous blacklisting of communists--despite attesting that she had formally (yet naively) joined the Communist Party.
On the heels of President Obama's historic executive action on gun control, Ball's story is also a reminder of the damage that firearms can do at the hands of a certainly innocent child.
In her memoir, Love Lucy, Ball writes that on July 4, 1927, her grandfather, "in a holiday mood, came home from work on the trolley with a mysterious object wrapped in brown paper. It was a birthday present for [Ball's brother] Freddy, who was about to turn 12--a real .22-caliber rifle." Despite Freddy's excitement, Ball's father told him he couldn't shoot the gun until the next day, after he showed him how. True to his promise, Ball's father "set up a tin-can target in our backyard and then in his usual meticulous, careful way explained all about the gun."
Next door to the Balls lived an eight-year-old boy, Warner Erickson, who Ball writes had a habit of stopping by uninvited. He did so on this day. Freddy's "little girlfriend" Johanna took a turn with the gun, and just as she was aiming at a tin can, Warner's mother called out his name from their home. "The gun went off," Ball writes, "and Warner fell spread-eagled to the ground, into the lilac bushes." Ball continues:
"The next few days were a kind of nightmare as we all hung on to bulletins from the hospital. Then we learned the awful news: a .22-caliber bullet is very small, but by fantastic bad luck, the bullet passed right through Warner's spine, severing the cord."
The Lucille Ball we all know and love was the product of lifelong determination; she was a living example of how practice and patience make perfect. Despite legendary comedic talents and abundant career opportunities--Ball was well known as "the queen of the B movies" by major movie studios and audiences for a decade--the beauty eventually decided she'd never really achieve the acclaim she had hoped. She ultimately settled for a little television show that bore her name, I Love Lucy, at the ripe old age of 40. You know what happened next.
What you may not know is that Ball overcame a great deal of tragedy throughout her life, from being rendered bedbound in her youth for three years with a mysterious acute case of arthritis that miraculously resolved itself completely to surviving Hollywood's infamous blacklisting of communists--despite attesting that she had formally (yet naively) joined the Communist Party.
On the heels of President Obama's historic executive action on gun control, Ball's story is also a reminder of the damage that firearms can do at the hands of a certainly innocent child.
In her memoir, Love Lucy, Ball writes that on July 4, 1927, her grandfather, "in a holiday mood, came home from work on the trolley with a mysterious object wrapped in brown paper. It was a birthday present for [Ball's brother] Freddy, who was about to turn 12--a real .22-caliber rifle." Despite Freddy's excitement, Ball's father told him he couldn't shoot the gun until the next day, after he showed him how. True to his promise, Ball's father "set up a tin-can target in our backyard and then in his usual meticulous, careful way explained all about the gun."
Next door to the Balls lived an eight-year-old boy, Warner Erickson, who Ball writes had a habit of stopping by uninvited. He did so on this day. Freddy's "little girlfriend" Johanna took a turn with the gun, and just as she was aiming at a tin can, Warner's mother called out his name from their home. "The gun went off," Ball writes, "and Warner fell spread-eagled to the ground, into the lilac bushes." Ball continues:
"The next few days were a kind of nightmare as we all hung on to bulletins from the hospital. Then we learned the awful news: a .22-caliber bullet is very small, but by fantastic bad luck, the bullet passed right through Warner's spine, severing the cord."