August 30, 1980
Bristol, Pennsylvania

"And that's when they started screening everyone that went into the jury rooms, Jeff," Andy finished with a soft smile, the wrinkles in his face stretching.

"That's so not true, Papa," Jeff said, rolling his eyes. "There's no way you got stabbed in a jury room."

"Oh, really?" Andy asked, laughing jovially. "Go play with your cousins, boy. I'm sure they're waiting for you."

"Bye, Papa!" Jeff shouted, jumping up from his seat on the wooden porch and running off to go find his cousins.

"He doesn't believe you, Papa?" Kathleen asked, stepping out of the house with her grandmother on her arm.

"Of course not, Kathy," Andy said, smiling. "None of them have."

"I think it's where you mention getting stabbed," Ethel joked, sitting down next to her husband of fifty-five years. "The Lord knows I didn't believe the doctors when they first told me who had stabbed you."

"I didn't either," Kathleen added. "When you first told me the story."

Andy just kept smiling and shook his head.