By Boris Yaro/Los Angeles Times (retired)
I had gone to the Ambassador Hotel on my own with the idea of making a photo of Bobby Kennedy for my wall. The idea went further than I had expected.
When the shooting started I thought someone was tossing firecrackers because I was being hit in the face with debris. I grew up playing with fireworks, and this was not an unusual thing to happen.
Then the crowd parted, and I watched in horror as Sirhan emptied his revolver at Robert Kennedy. I had my camera at chest level, but I didn’t make a photo during the shooting. It was dark, and I think I was afraid.
When the shooting stopped there was a pregnant pause, and then two men, one in a tuxedo, grabbed Sirhan and forced him face down on a metal countertop and shook his revolver loose.
Sirhan kept trying to reach the revolver, and I was afraid he might get it, so I stuck my hand in under the guys holding him and picked up the gun.
I turned away from the scuffle and was thinking, “It’s warm. The gun is warm,” and all of a sudden it was taken from me. I didn’t see who grabbed it, but I saw the back end of a sport coat and figured it might be a cop.
more (with photo, be warned it will bring up strong emotions)
http://framework.latimes.com/2010/08/10/the-assassination-of-robert-f-kennedy/