Stories from our readers remembering the life, the death and the legacy of JFK on the 50th anniversary of his assassination in Dallas.
FILE - This Jan. 20, 1961 file photo shows U.S. President John F. Kennedy delivering his inaugural address after taking the oath of office at Capitol Hill in Washington. Authors, editors and speechwriters interviewed by The Associated Press agree that Obama is indeed a gifted and effective speechmaker, but even admirers have a hard time remembering what he actually says. (AP Photo/File)
A young woman, about to give birth to her first child, experienced great joy and great sorrow. A 10-year-old boy, anxious about anesthesia for a minor surgery, came out of recovery to learn his bad dream was reality. A 4-year-old's lunch with his mom and little sister at a Dallas drive-in was shattered by the sounds of sirens. A bride-to-be's joy turned to sorrow. An emigre from Jamaica, inspired to become a U.S. citizen to vote for the incumbent president in 1964, cried when she learns it wouldn't be possible. A high school student sent to the principal's office was instead sent home – and he then decided to drive with a buddy through a snowstorm to a "surreal" funeral.
These are among the stories told when, as the 50th anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy approached, we asked readers of The Republican/MassLive.com to share their memories of that day, of JFK's life and of his legacy.
We received dozens of comments and letters. Thank you to everyone who participated.
Today, exactly 50 years ago after the shots rang out in Dallas (also on a Friday), we offer some excerpts from what you had to say:
Nana6 wrote:
I was a 16 year old girl living at home in Ireland at the time and preparing to emigrate to the America. My family were listening to the news on the radio (we did not have a TV) and suddenly heard that the President of America was shot and had died. What a tragedy. It was so sad. We read all about it in the newspapers and listened to the funeral on the radio over the next 4 days. We could hear the horses and the carriage. The Irish people were devastated. I emigrated to America two weeks later and did not realize the full impact of President Kennedy’s death until I landed in the United States. I, like many others, will never forget where we were on that fateful day.
Darrell Weldon of Belchertown wrote:
I have a very "permanent" reminder of the day of President Kennedy's assassination. Was 10 years old and attending Sacred Heart Elementary School in Springfield. But this day I was not in class. Instead I had surgery on my right index finger at Mercy Hospital. And for someone at that age who never experienced being rolled through the double doors that had "Operating Room" stenciled on the glass it was the start of a very harrowing day. I was just a little too naive to make the connection between "surgery" and "Operating Room" and protested very vocally trying to convince those that were rolling my stretcher that they took a wrong turn.
Then when it came time for the ether my mother later told me that it took a small squadron of hospital personnel to finally get the mask on me and the "lullaby gas" flowing. The memory of that mask being held over my face left quite the etching on my brain. For 30 years later when I needed surgery for my back and was meeting with my physician prior to the scheduled operation date, he asked me if I had any concerns. He got quite the chuckle when I told him that the mask might freak me out. Yes I still believed that the mask was waiting to suffocate me once more and had no idea that the "lullaby gas" was now a "lullaby cocktail."
In 1963 our home was right in the shadows of Mercy Hospital. After I awoke from my surgery and became somewhat coherent once more my mother walked me from the hospital to our house. I went to my bedroom and fell back asleep immediately. My mother would later tell me that throughout the next few hours she would come in and check on me and either I would be in a deep sleep or tethering on the edge of being somewhat awake. If it was the latter she would ask me how I was feeling and if I needed something. Most of the time she said that I would just shake my head and fall right back asleep.
Later that day I awoke startled and in search of my mother to tell her about my "bad dream." I found her in front of our black & white television watching as the aftermath of President Kennedy's assassination flooded the airwaves. What I thought was a "bad dream" had actually been my mother coming to my room to tell me "the President was shot." She said that I still too tired to have comprehended what she was trying to tell me then and I had fallen right back to sleep.
For the remainder of that Friday we like millions of others watched as the events of that tragic day played out. And two days later I watched as Lee Harvey Oswald was shot by Jack Ruby while being escorted through the basement of the Dallas Police Headquarters.
The surgery on my finger left a permanent scar about a half inch long. Whenever I look at it the events of November 22, 1963 and the subsequent days will always remind me of the permanent scar left on America by the senseless killing of a great man and leader.
Mary E. Franz of Longmeadow wrote:
Mary E. FranzThe Republican [file]
Fifty years ago I was a 31-year-old wife and mother of five. My husband and I were at the grocery store when the announcement came over the loudspeaker that our President had been shot. Silence descended and silence remained for long moments. And that same silence seemed to grip us even after the terrible news that our President, John F. Kennedy, had died of his injuries.
In the days to follow we gathered around our TV set to listen, to watch, to share what the world was sharing with us – utter, silent sorrow. It remains so clear in memory – reliving all those moments. ...
It was such a sad moment in our nation's history. Those of us who lived through it were touched by the almost beautiful sadness that swept across this land. ...
William Bevan wrote:
Fifty years ago I was (in) eighth grade at JJ Lynch school in Holyoke, when Ms. Shea was called out of class and given the horrific news. We were made aware and told to stay at our desks until dismissal.
At home being my Dad's forty-fourth birthday the evening was subdued and we sat at the dinner table and listened to our Dad talk about how JFK was a war hero and that this was a huge loss to our nation.
My Dad was a proud WW 2 Navy veteran and we never forgot that sad birthday.
MrAtos wrote:
Sad day..I remember coming home from school to find my mother crying in our kitchen. I thought someone in the family had died.
nancheska wrote:
I was only six years old on that Friday. Ironically, it was a beautiful day in Springfield (Dallas, too). We were let go early from school. My sister was crying, so many people were inconsolable. I was in shock, and I refused to completely believe JFK was dead until my mom met my sister and me on our front yard. I asked my mom if it was true, "Did this REALLY happen?" She said "Yes, and I'm so sorry." The 60's were tough....many heartbreaks, starting with JFK's assasination. Still too painful to talk about.
Tim Rooke of Springfield wrote:
My father was on the police detail when I believe then presidential candidate John F. Kennedy came to visit downtown Springfield. He has a great picture of JFK, Congressman Boland, Tommy O'Connor ... There are 7-8 Springfield police officers around the lead car. My father is one of many of them.
PS: I always wished we celebrated JFK's birthday as his family had once
wished rather than his death.
Walter Rooke of Springfield (Tim Rooke's father) said:
11.08.1960 | SPRINGFIELD -- Sgt. Walter Rooke is among the Springfield police officers escorting U.S. Sen. John F. Kennedy's motorcade to Court Square on the eve of the presidential election. Submitted photo
I remember shaking hands with him (JFK). I was right next to him on Pynchon Street, just before going onto Main, and I asked, "Do you mind if I shake your hand?" He said, "My hand is so sore, one more won’t hurt, I don’t think." ...
The Secret Service told us what to do – keep your eyes out for troublemakers and things like that …
It was a great experience – I never thought I’d be shaking a hand with one of the Kennedys.
On the eve of the 1960 presidential election, Walter Rooke was a Springfield Police Department sergeant assigned to supervise a detail of about 30 officers who lined the motorcade route for U.S. Sen. John F. Kennedy's visit to Springfield. Rooke, who retired as a captain after 30 years on the force, said it was the most memorable event of his career.
Joan McGovern wrote:
On that beautiful, cool morning of Nov. 22, 1963, I was a young girl on my way to Wesson Women's Hospital. My first child was about to be born.
That evening, before my son's birth, I heard the doctor and nurses having a conversation about President Kennedy being killed. Minutes later, my son, Robert Watts, was born. It was a moment of great joy and great sorrow. The next three days in the hospital, new mothers were glued to the televisions with tears flowing down their faces.
As we celebrate my son's 50th birthday this year, I still look back on that day, so long ago, with great joy, but also the sadness of our nation's terrible loss.
Frances M. Gagnon of Springfield wrote:
Frances GagnonThe Republican [file]
I was a 21-year-old bride-to-be on Friday, Nov. 22, 1963 when arriving at work at Dun & Bradstreet, State St., in downtown Springfield. It was to have been a special day since co-workers planned a lunch treat and presentation of a wedding gift on my last day here before transferring to the larger Boston office following a Nov. 30 wedding. The day was memorable, but not like imagined. A frenzy of phone calls about the killing of President Kennedy erupted just as we prepared to leave for lunch. Needless to say, the lunch never happened and co-workers quietly gave me their gift at my desk. Tears, fear and loss were co-mingled into a single mood of deep sadness.
Upon arriving home, I found my parents anxiously watching the news unfold on the old black & white television set. This continued everywhere all weekend until my fiance, Victor, and I left for Boston on Sunday evening, since I had a meeting scheduled with my new boss on Tuesday morning. With Monday, November 25 a National Day of Mourning, we decided to attend an outdoor memorial tribute at the Statehouse. The day and mood were bleak, gray and cold, but despite it all, a huge crowd assembled along Beacon St. and along the fringes of the Common. We were lucky to secure a perch on the stone retainers not far from the Joseph Hooker statue. Afterward, we walked to the Washington St. area and saw retail giants like Jordan Marsh, William Filene's, Gilchrist's and others full of floral and souvenir tributes in windows to the fallen JFK, almost like a citywide wake.
We returned to Springfield in time for Thanksgiving, the Friday rehearsal and the November 30 wedding day ... all in the measure of a single week that seemed to be an eternity. There was a cloud of sadness even at the wedding as guests couldn't help but discuss the assassination.
Fifty years later in 2013 we look forward to our 50th wedding anniversary, but as with each anniversary cannot help but recall the events of 1963 and the untimely death of john F. Kennedy and how life changed. And yes, I still have some of the dishes given me by co-workers on November 22, 1963.
Debby LeFebvre wrote:
It was a glorious fall day in Northern Vermont where we lived in 1963. The weather was warm and it was spectacular foliage that we will never forget; and we were anticipating the birth of our third child. When I heard the news that the president was shot, I took my two children and walked down the street to my parents' home. As I arrived at their home, their minister was ringing their door bell to pay a visit to congratulate them on their 40th wedding anniversary. When I told him the news, he asked us to join in prayer. Just then, the news flashed across the TV that the president was dead. The next morning, I arrived at the hospital to give birth. The atmosphere was absolute silence. In the maternity unit where they was usually joy; there was none. Early in the evening I gave birth to our youngest daughter. I was feeding her when watching the TV, we saw Jack Ruby kill Lee Harvey Oswald. On Thanksgiving Day, I returned home to a subdued Thanksgiving Day celebration. So, our daughter turns 50 and the November 23d memories of her birth will be shared with the fateful event that transpired on the day prior to her birth.
SL wrote:
I was 10 years old and wasn't told until I was home from school. I remember my parents explaining what happened and them stressing the v.p. becoming the president (the idea of continuity/stability for us). Interestingly I didn't cry and didn't feel worried but could not understand why someone would murder the president. .... I do remember my parents becoming troubled when Oswald was strangely murdered by Ruby. From that point on they suspected something was wrong with the whole official story.
Vera O'Connor of Springfield wrote:
Vera O'ConnorThe Republican [file]
I had the pleasure of shaking John F. Kennedy’s hand when he was a Senator. He made a stop in Springfield. I had migrated to Springfield from Jamaica and so I was not familiar with the politics of this country. Yet, there was something different about John F. Kennedy. He had charisma and I was impressed, I can still see him riding in that blue convertible and brushing back the hair off his forehead. When he became President I decided I would become an American citizen, because I intended to vote for him, unfortunately he was assassinated before I had the chance to vote for him. I am still saddened by the events of November 1963.
I was downtown on Main Street, near Forbes and Wallace Store, waiting for a bus when I heard the news that President Kennedy was shot in Dallas, Texas. I was praying that he would survive, that was not meant to be. I cried when I found out he had died. I was glued to my TV from the Friday until the day of his funeral.
It was a dark time for the USA and the world, a beloved President killed in the prime of his life. He was loved by most people here and around the world. In my native country of Jamaica almost every home had a picture of President John F. Kennedy adorning their walls in the Drawing Room.
I watched in disbelief when I saw Lee Harvey Oswald shot on live television.
It is true that you have to be careful what you ask for, it was on Veterans Day that President Kennedy made the statement that he loved Arlington National Cemetery so much because it was peaceful and that he wished he could have stayed there. It was a couple weeks later that he was buried there. I have visited his graveside and that of Robert and Edward many times. May their souls rest in peace and may light perpetual shine on them.
Until this day, I cannot watch the television or read any detailed article about the death of President Kennedy.
Jim Kahle wrote:
11.21.2013 | SPRINGFIELD -- Jim Kahle of Jim's Auto Trim on State Street, shows photos he took of President John F. Kennedy's funeral 50 years ago.Photo by Don Treeger / The Republican
On November 22nd 1963 I was sitting in front of our school principal Joe Pazzaro, Warren Area High, Warren PA. I had been sent to his office by my study hall teacher for my disruptive activity in her class. I was about to be reprimanded by him when his secretary came in and said “President Kennedy has just been shot in Dallas Texas”. Mr. Pazzaro immediately dismissed me to go back to study hall. But first, I went to the second floor to my best friends’ English class, and looking through the window of the door I got his attention and kept pointing to my head with my hand making it look like a gun. Being one of only three people in the school at that moment that knew what happened I wanted to tell my friend but he only looked back at me with a strange “are you crazy” look! A couple minutes later across the school P.A. system came the announcement that our President had been shot in Texas and that his condition was unknown at the time. School was dismissed and I went home. We then found out JFK had died from an assassin’s bullets. In talking with another friend of mine we decided to do something to honor JFK. The next day we decided to drive to Washington DC to pay our respects. Even now I’m really not sure why, but we did!! We packed sleeping bags in the back of his old yellow Vauxhall station wagon, left notes for our parents that we were going to Washington for JFK funeral, and off we went. We drove through the afternoon and into the night in a WET snow storm. When we got to Washington we found that our sleeping bags had gotten soaked because the rear wheel wells of the wagon had body seam cracks and the wet snow came into the back of the vehicle!! We then found a cheap hotel and split the cost of a single room, we flipped a coin, I lost and slept on the floor. Being the days before cell phones our parents had no way to check on us to see what we were doing or where we were, so they called the State Police and later we found out that bulletins were out in four states for us.
Well, when we got up on Nov 24th and went to the capital area for the funeral cortege, we found ourselves among thousands of onlookers waiting for the procession and JFK casket to pass by. Many people had climbed up into the trees along the sides of the streets where the procession was going to pass, some had spent half the night in the trees so as to get a good view of what was about to happen. Well we joined the tremendous crowd, across from the US Treasury Building to watch as JFK’s casket passed by on it’s way to the rotunda of the Capital Building for public viewing. As we were watching the procession pass, a woman next to us with a small transistor radio heard the broadcast that Lee Harvey Oswald had been shot in the Dallas Police station by a guy named Jack Ruby. As others with radios heard the news people started telling people and the word spread like wild fire through the crowd. Some people shouted, some people wept ... it was surreal.
11.21.2013 | SPRINGFIELD -- This is a photograph taken by Jim Kahle of President John F. Kennedy's funeral procession 50 years ago in Washington.Photo by Don Treeger / The Republican
The riderless horse passed and then the flag-draped casket of our President on a horse-drawn carriage followed. Then the Limo’s passed carrying Jackie Kennedy and LBJ and Lady Bird Johnson. There were secret service men everywhere!!!! As we started to line up with all the people there that wanted to pass by and pay Respect inside the Capital Building, we realized it would be several hours or more before we would be even close. So we decided to find our car and start the journey back to North West Pennsylvania. We had spent all our remaining money to fill up the gas tank and we did run out of gas, but only blocks away from our homes!!!
The next morning, after we got out of trouble with our parents, the Warren Times Mirror newspaper heard about what we had done and came to us for interviews!!! We were celebrities for a few days in our small little town!!
That was long ago and far away but is still vivid in my memory.
Mike Phillips wrote:
I was 4 years old, living in the Oak Cliff community of Dallas. On Nov. 22nd around mid-day, my mom was driving my younger sister and I home from pre-school. We had stopped for a fast food lunch where in 1963 Dallas meant a drive-in. The car hop had taken our order and we were waiting. Sirens began wailing as police cars were heading downtown. The girl brought out our food and I still remember the phrase that she used. "Some maniac had just shot at Kennedy." I had to ask my mom what a maniac was. She was near tears and we headed home as fast as we could. Along the way, passing The Texas Theater. That evening, our family drove to my grandparents' home in Irving and we watched the coverage on TV. My grandmother had a way of covering her mouth when she was upset by what she was seeing or hearing that upset her. She had that look many times as we watched the events unfold the remainder of that weekend.
Mitch Ogulewicz, of Travelers Rest, S.C., a former Springfield city councilor, wrote:
Mitch OgulewiczThe Republican [file]
It was in July of 1956 that I first became interested in John Kennedy as a 10-year-old youngster. I remember the excitement of watching the Democratic Convention in Chicago, when Kennedy was seeking the vice presidential nomination.
I remember meeting the then-Senator John F. Kennedy at the American Legion Post 430 up on Hungry Hill, the Sunday before the 1958 election. There was a large rally hosted by Congressman Edward Boland for Kennedy's reelection campaign.
In 1960, as a student at Cathedral High School, I volunteered on Saturdays at the Kennedy For President Headquarters on Main Street in Springfield. My job was to sell as many Kennedy for President Campaign Buttons (for $1.00) to people shopping on Main Street.
On the Sunday night before the presidential election, a large group of kids and adults spent the night decorating Liberty Street in the Hungry Hill neighborhood, delivering Kennedy for President signs to all the stores, apartments and homes on Liberty Street, for people to put in their windows. A large banner was hung across Liberty Street at "Bottle Park," welcoming Jack Kennedy to Hungry Hill.
Kennedy was arriving at Westover and his caravan would pass right through the heart of Hungry Hill, on its way to Court Square and a huge rally held the day before the election.
Many of us skipped school to go down to Court Square to see the rally.
On election day, I stood at the Liberty Methodist Church, which was a large voting precinct on Hungry Hill, and passed out "Vote For Kennedy Pamphlets."
The day after the election with the vote totals between Kennedy and Nixon very close, the nuns, priest and students waited anxiously for the announcement that Kennedy had won.
All the televisions in the Cathedral library were tuned in when the announcement was finally made that Kennedy had won. Kennedy then appeared on the television screen and made a short speech from Cape Cod.
On November 22, 1963 I was sitting in a class when all of a sudden the intercom system came on. For a short time there was no one speaking, just the crackling of the intercom system. Then Monsignor Tim Leary, Director of Cathedral, announced that President Kennedy had been shot. Monsignor Leary led the entire school in the rosary. Just as we finished the rosary, he then announced that President Kennedy had died.
Many students were in shock and cried. Class was then dismissed and we were all sent home.
Starting with my freshman year in 1960 to the beginning of my senior year in 1963 were the Kennedy Years.
Those 1,000 days were exciting and at time fearful.
The death of President Kennedy had a profound affect on my generation. The world changed and as has been written "we lost our innocence."
Gerald Berg of Longmeadow wrote:
Like many, I remember JFK's assassination as if it were yesterday. I was 13 years old and in the 8th grade at Longmeadow Junior High School, now Williams Middle School. I was sick that day so my father picked me up early from school. When I got in the car he told me that the president had been shot.
He was a pretty tough guy and I remember that it was one of the very few times I ever saw tears in his eyes. I remember asking him why someone would shoot the president. He had no answer. When we got home we found out that JFK had died. For the next four days, we did nothing but watch television, switching back and forth between the three television stations. Most, if not all, of the regular programming was cancelled. Businesses closed, stores closed, restaurants closed. Very few people went to work. There was very little traffic. The streets were eerily quiet. Virtually no one left their homes until his funeral the following Monday. Other than the deaths of my parents and a couple of close friends I don't think any death has had the kind of profound effect on me that JFK's death has had. I remember that the early 1960s was a very hopeful time in this country and then, in an instant, that sense of hopefulness was gone. I'm not sure that most of us who remember or this country has ever fully gotten over it.
Nancy Plouffe of Westfield wrote:
I'm now 65 years old, but I remember Nov. 22, 1963 like it was yesterday.
I was a 15-year-old sophomore at a high school in Eastern Massachusetts, where I grew up. I was a majorette and very happy to have our last period off – so we could practice our halftime routine for the upcoming Thanksgiving Day football game.
As we walked off the football field, a reporter was there. When we asked what was going on, he told us that President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas. We thought it was some kind of joke. We could not imagine that anything like that could happen to our president.
However, as we entered the school, people were crying – students and teachers alike. And then, over the loudspeaker, we hear the unthinkable – that President Kennedy had been assassinated. The message was delivered by our principal, who was also crying.
Of course all football games were canceled. We all spent the next several days glued to our black and white television sets, watching with horror and sadness, the wake and funeral of JFK – and especially little "John John" saluting as his father's casket went by. The sounds of those drums during the procession will be forever etched in my memory.
In retrospect, the only way I can describe those awful days in November 1963 is a "loss of innocence" that would never return in my lifetime.
Jean Caldwell of Springfield wrote:
Jean CaldwellSubmitted photo
I was at home sitting at my manual typewriter working on ads for Shaw Associates when the staffer in the office phoned and said, "The president died." I thought she meant the president of one of the companies Shaw wrote advertising copy for.
"Which president?" I asked.
"The president of the United States."
I couldn't believe it. I switched on the TV. All I wanted to do was cry, but I decided to get to work instead. My husband, Durham, was news director at WHYN radio and Channel 40 television. I had helped him as a volunteer. I decided to get people's reaction for the radio and began calling up people I knew. WHYN put what I gathered on the air.
As a post script, the station sent it in to UPI in 1964. I became the first woman to win the UPI Broadcasters of Massachusetts Tom Phillips Best Feature award. And I wasn't even on the payroll.
Durham Caldwell of Springfield wrote:
Durham CaldwellThe Republican [file]
November 22, 1963. I was news director at WHYN-TV/40, working that day as a street reporter. Photographer Ronnie Dowling and I had had a busy morning. But not a frame of film that Ron had shot ever made it on the air.
We had gotten back in the news van after shooting some sort of event at the Community House in Longmeadow and signed in with the newsroom via two-way radio. The voice of Darrell Gould, the WHYN radio newsman on duty, came out of the loudspeaker: “A story from Dallas. The president’s been shot. They think it could be serious.”
A few moments later: “Congressman Boland just called. He wants to make sure you don’t use any of that interview he gave you this morning.” President Kennedy had invited Boland to go with him to Texas, but Boland had declined. I have no memory of what was in the interview.
We turned our AM radio to one of the network stations and headed for Boland’s office in the Post Office building on Dwight Street. As I recall, there was no word on the president’s condition. Boland shook his head about Dallas, saying something to the effect of “What a city!” He declined a new interview.
We drove to Main Street. A crowd was gathered around the window of a Springfield Newspapers office somewhere near the Paramount Theater devouring the wire service bulletins that newspaper staffers were posting. We parked at curbside a short distance away. Passersby crowded around our open passenger-side door to listen to reports coming over the AM radio. Too soon came the news that the president was dead.
We moved a little ways south on Main Street and pulled up in front of Don Keavany's card shop, the House of Cards. This was the site of our frequent “man on the street” sidewalk interviews. Don made them possible by letting us run the electrical cord from our sound camera into one of his indoor outlets. Sometimes passersby balked at being interviewed for television. But not today.
This was a different Main Street. Many passersby were weeping as they scurried along. I seem to remember that we frequently had people waiting in line for their turn to speak on camera. We recorded the sentiments of everyone from teenagers to senior citizens. Many of them were very emotional. For me, the words of the veteran police officer on the Main Street beat, Patrick (“Paddy”) Pepper, still bring tears to my eyes when I watch the film a half century later:
“When they took a shot at that man, to me it was as if they took a shot at the whole country.”
taxedtothemax wrote:
I remember that day vividly.
My mother and I were dying a sweater for my boyfriend.
His family couldn't afford to buy him his "school sweater", so we got him a less expensive one and dyed it his school color.
The television was on and the news of the President's shooting was announced.
I watched everything about that day and the days following.
Jane D. O’Donoghue wrote:
I was resting in the living room enjoying a quiet spell. My 6-week old infant John Fitzgerald O’Donoghue has just gone to sleep after his bottle. My 4-year-old daughter Liz was napping also and the older three were in school.
By the way, the Fitzgerald part of John’s name was in honor of his paternal grandmother’s maiden name. We figured if the Kennedys could do it, so could we.
When the phone rang, it was my sister Ann telling me the soap she was watching was interrupted by a bulletin announcing the President was shot. Remembering the old cowboy movies, my first impression was “it’s only a flesh wound”. Ann was anxious to get back to the news, and I turned on my TV. The news was still indefinite until Walter Cronkite appeared on the screen with a tearful announcement, the President was dead. Unbelievable, this could not happen to our young, handsome President; the one who had given us a new spirit of hope and grand plans for the country’s future.
I continued to watch until I needed to get out of the house. I awakened the sleepers and headed for the “X” to meet the others on their way home from school. I met a woman whose only concern seemed to be that Jackie wouldn’t have to worry about money as a widow. I was aghast. She didn’t recognize the enormity of the situation that someone or maybe an enemy had killed our president.
I met my three elementary youths who were coming from school being released early. People everywhere were unsure of what was going to happen, including the teachers whose first fears were an invasion. This was the time of bomb drills and students were instructed to bend down under their desks for safety. Eventually, all were sent home.
My husband left work early and the family spent the following days watching TV in disbelief as the sadness of our nation was played out before us. It seemed we couldn’t tear ourselves away from the TV, as if we needed to be witness. We cried, mourned, and prayed with and for the Kennedy family and our country.
Television networks cut away from Washington, D.C., and the preparations for burial, to Dallas. The police were transferring the murder suspect, Lee Harvey Oswald, from the local to county jail. After Oswald raised his handcuffed hands in defiance, a man named Jack Ruby rushed forward and to our horror, shot him in the stomach, and killed him. This was the first time a murder was witnessed live on television and we continued our vigil even more horrified and saddened.
The country was at a standstill until we witnessed the ceremonies at the final resting place of our president beside the eternal flame in Arlington National Cemetery.
Reluctantly we resumed our lives a sadder bewildered people with a new president and an unpredictable future.