In Memory Of John F. Kennedy

RadishRose

SF VIP
Location
Connecticut, USA
john-f-kennedy-medium.jpg

(1917 - 1963)​
 

It was about 2:15 in the afternoon. I was finishing up the day, in class, in high school. A nun came to the door, and said, "Children, the President has been shot." She was in her late 80s, so we all figured she misheard something. We went down to the cafeteria, where there was a TV. Walter Cronkite was on. I don't think I slept much for the next three days. I remember everyone in my house had gone to bed, and I was up watching tyhe feed from the Capitol, where Kennedy laid in state. Jackie came in and kissed the coffin. And even to this day, I cry, like hell, when I see
John-john salute his dad.
 
I was 15 yrs.old and in 10th grade Social Science class. It's true that most people remember where we were when the President was shot. I have to recall to remember how old I was when each of my parents died. But yet, I remember John Kennedy's death. Perhaps it's because the whole nation went into shock and grief at the same time.
 
I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was at my older sister's house. She had just come home from the hospital with her brand new baby. I was fixing his bottle when the news came on saying the President had been shot. From that moment I didn't leave the TV. I sat there and cried for the longest time.
 
I was 15 and in my world history class. My teacher was Ms. Delthea Payne a black woman. We watched her weep as she struggled to compose her self so she could continue with the lesson of the day. She addressed all of her students as "Mr." or "Miss". She was my favorite teacher of all.
 
I was playing poker in the barracks when one of the guys came rushing through with a radio tuned into Armed Forces News station. We were all speechless for a few moments, then put on our uniforms and headed for the shop. A few minutes later, the base went on full alert, and stayed that way for about 3 days. When we finally "stood down", we went back to the barracks, our cards and chips were right where we left them, but somehow we just weren't in the mood for games.
 
I was in elementary school when the teacher was called out into the hallway; she returned a few minutes later, visibly fighting back tears and trying to maintain her composure. We were all sent home a short time later, where I saw Walter Cronkite, himself visibly distressed, announce on TV that Kennedy had died...
 


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