In every person's life, there are days that will always be remembered. All any stranger or friend needs to say is, "Where were you when President Kennedy was assassinated?" Instantly a vivid story comes to mind.
It was Friday, November 22,1963. I was a freshman in high school. We had just finished lunch and were sitting in Mrs. Walker's English class.
I remember the day was cool and the sun was shining. My seat in class was the last row, second seat from the front, by the wall of windows. I was sitting in front of Tommy. Mrs. Walker was at the chalk board writing, when our class door opened. Mr. Phillips, our principal said, "The President has been shot in Dallas." There was a low murmur in the room from the students. Disbelief was a tangible blanket in the air. Shock, an emotion most of us knew little or nothing about had spread across the room in an instant.
Mrs. Walker sat down at her desk and put her head in her hands. I think she was praying, I know she cried. I turned around and asked Tommy if Mr. Phillips, said the President was "shot or dead". He wasn't sure either.
I have no memories of school for the rest of the day. I think we were dismissed early but I am not sure...the more I think about it we probably stayed in school. Our day was almost over. I do remember racing to my grandmother's home as soon as I could. Mamamae was watching the news, as I walked in the house. Neither of us could believe what our eyes were seeing. By the time I reached home, it was confirmed---- the President was dead.
The televisions at that time were in black and white with small 19 inch screens. The news coverage was nonstop. The police, FBI and CIA were looking for the assassin or assassins. The news commentators were filled with emotion as they reported the rapidly changing news.
America was glued to the tube. In our small town, it was announced that the churches would be open to the public 24 hours a day, for those needing to go there and pray. Mamamae and I went several times.
At home, we sat in awe and with tears flowing as replays of the day were shown. We saw Jackie Kennedy and our hearts went out to her. There were no political lines drawn in the sand. We grieved with her, and for our First Lady and her children.
We watched as Lyndon Johnson was sworn into office aboard Air Force One as President Kennedy's body was being transported to Washington, D.C.
We were stunned when Lee Harvey Oswald was arrested for the assassination. We, as a people, could not get enough information fast enough. There were special edition papers printed to keep up with the influx of news stories. History was playing out in front of our eyes. None of us were prepared for what was happening in our country.
I went to Sunday School the following Sunday. I came home to see what had happened while I was in church. Oswald had been arrested earlier and was being transfered around noon. I wanted to see this. I turned on the t.v. in time to see Oswald being escorted down a long hallway. A man steps out, Jack Ruby, and shoots Oswald dead. I thought I would throw up. Mamamae came into the room and said we needed to get back to church. That was the first time I ever told an adult, "No". Then I explained what I had just seen. Mamamae's face turned ashen. She reached out and hugged me. We then silently turned and sat down on the couch. Our minds trying to absorb what our eyes were seeing.
It was a time of passion and love for the Kennedy family. A time of disbelief for our nation. People cried openly and unabashedly. We were a nation grieving. It took a long time for our country to heal.
The unimaginable had happened for the second time in our history. Only this time we witnessed it all. It happened not in history, a hundred years ago like it did with President Lincoln, but right in front of our eyes. It was too much to absorb, however we did absorb it. We watched, we prayed, we cried. We had our own conspiracy theories taking shape in our minds. As a nation we pulled together, as Americans always do, when disaster strikes. However, none of us remain unchanged. We all have a personal story to tell about that strange time in our lives. This one is mine.
thank you for the story!
ReplyDelete