The hunt for the man, who premeditated the murder of Father Abe, has come to an end.
The famous, and now infamous, actor has taken his last breath brought to him by our union friend, Sergeant Boston Corbett.
The assassin told his sister in his mere childhood how he would die.
He would not die by burning, droning, falling, or sufficing.
He would not die in front of a crowd, humiliated because of his actions against one of the greatest leaders of our nation.
No, he would die like a man.
Unfortunately, his wishes did not come true.
The loyal Corbett shot the man on a run from point blank range through a four inch gap between the planks of a burning tobacco barn.
Why did he do it and not take him in for trial and a lavish reward?
He felt he needed to.
Corbett claimed he did not try to kill him, but the bullet entered through his neck and exited through the other side, a mortal wound.
The projectile cut through approximately the same location in the assassin’s body (just under the brain) as the bullet that was shot on the night of April 14
th and cut Lincoln’s life short.
Coincidence or fate?
The government didn’t make known the final resting place of the killer.
Conspirators and Rebels use this to claim that their hit man made it through the twelve day challenge and managed to live a life full of roses and white picket fences in the Lone Star State.
This is to the slayer of the man who gave us the free America we have to today.
He wanted to be remembered, this is how we remember him.
Here is to you, whose fate is forgotten.
Lindsay, Syd, and I at Trolley Square before we left to eat.
Us in front of a lit up nutcracker outside the zoo.
Us by a large elephant.
Holding up her fake giraffe skin purse in front of the fake giraffes.
