A Bank Robber Killed My Father

My parents went to the bank where my father had his account, on July 24th, 1964.
We were to leave for two weeks vacation the next day.
While my parents were in the bank it was robbed.
The robber fired two shots into the ceiling to frighten everyone.
He robbed the bank and fled.
My father, after everyone had gone outside and along the sidewalk of the small neighbourhood plaza where the bank was located, asked: "Where are the police?"
"Why aren't they here yet? If I had a gun I'd go after him."
The accountant said he'd give my father a gun.
My father went after the robber and fired a shot or two, with a 38 revolver, both shots missing the robber, but the robber shot him twice, once in the heart, and once in the head, using a telescopic lens on a gun that looked like a sawed-off M16.
These shots were instantly fatal of course.
I will be writing more about this and the effect of how my father died on my mother and myself, and my sister, very soon.