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Old 11-18-2013, 12:14 AM
 
Location: Southern Oregon
934 posts, read 1,128,895 times
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At home with my Mother, no doubt, being 4 years old. But I remember. I remember the tears, and silence and the funeral procession with everyone watching it on television.
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Old 11-18-2013, 12:06 PM
 
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Mrs Riley's 3rd Grade class in catholic elem school. Principal came on and told us the President was shot and then led the class in prayer.

I remember walking home from school and the streets eerily empty.
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Old 11-18-2013, 12:25 PM
 
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I was 5 years old. I was playing in the basement with my friend from up the street, Gerry. My mom came to the head of the steps and told us to come upstairs. We did, and she told us that the president had been shot and that Gerry should go home.

I said, "Why? He didn't do it."
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Old 11-18-2013, 01:00 PM
 
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Home alone sick. I was 10.
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Old 11-18-2013, 01:38 PM
 
Location: San Francisco, CA
99,574 posts, read 4,492,993 times
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Quote:
Originally Posted by ovcatto View Post
Home alone sick. I was 10.
Was home sick as well. I was 9. The TV was on and I heard Walter Cronkite interrupting
with the first bulletins.
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Old 11-18-2013, 03:34 PM
 
Location: CO
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These responses are so interesting, and I'm amazed at the tender age some memories are from. Also interesting is how some schools sent kids home and others were business as usual. I guess they thought kids wouldn't be affected as much as adults but that certainly wasn't true since you all remember. Fascinating about the letter to Caroline and the photograph in return. The picture from SCBaker was very telling. You can almost see how people couldn't believe what they saw. And I have to chuckle at the child "who didn't do it"! Great responses!
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Old 11-18-2013, 04:02 PM
 
Location: Cushing OK
14,539 posts, read 21,263,135 times
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Lost Roses View Post
These responses are so interesting, and I'm amazed at the tender age some memories are from. Also interesting is how some schools sent kids home and others were business as usual. I guess they thought kids wouldn't be affected as much as adults but that certainly wasn't true since you all remember. Fascinating about the letter to Caroline and the photograph in return. The picture from SCBaker was very telling. You can almost see how people couldn't believe what they saw. And I have to chuckle at the child "who didn't do it"! Great responses!
You couldn't. You felt like it was all a really bad dream. Attempts aside, since they don't make the impact, nobody in over a generation had assainated a president. It was a huge shockwave through our society. I remember when Regan was shot and it didn't feel like a surprise.

If someone did a similar act as 9-11 today, we would still be shocked, but the impact of it being the unimaginable would be missing. You can only take in that shock once. Once you know it can happen it changes the perception.
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Old 11-18-2013, 08:39 PM
 
Location: Georgia
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I was 7 years old. We were at a school where we went home for lunch, and came back after lunch. My mother was a teacher, and I went to stay with a babysitter until she got home about 4. I got home for lunch, and lunch wasn't ready -- my babysitter was sitting at the kitchen table, sobbing. We were confused -- what happened?! -- and she told us that the President of the United States had died. We turned on the TV and basically sat glued to it for the next few days. My parents were equally upset.

For the next few days, that was all that was on TV -- black and white coverage. I was annoyed that the cartoons were pre-empted Saturday morning (we all lived for Saturday morning cartoons!) and my parents were quite stern in that I needed to just be quiet -- the President is dead.

On the Sunday before the funeral on Monday, after church, my parents decided to make the two-hour drive to Washington, D.C., because my father thought it would be good for me to see "history happening." We turned on the radio to hear that Oswald had been shot by Jack Ruby, and my mother was concerned about going to D.C., in case there were any "repercussions", but we decided to go anyway. She had on the stiletto heels that were stylish at the time, and I had on hat, coat and gloves and my Sunday dress and shoes.

We parked in Captiol Hill, to the east of Capitol, and walked several blocks to the Capitol. As we started up the east steps, the guard told us that this was the exit, and the line was on the other side, on the Mall. We walked around, and I remember being shocked at the lengths of the two lines snaking down either side of the Mall -- lines were six abreast. And it was COLD. My parents looked at each other and then decided to join the line, and we started walking. We walked about half-way down the Mall, before some kind people let us "cut" the line. So we stood in that line, in the cold, for almost six hours before we reached the Rotunda. No potty breaks -- pretty amazing for a 7 year old. :-)

When we arrived there, it was almost 9 pm, and there was some murmuring in the crowd about how they were supposed to close the doors at 9 pm, and wondering if we would be turned away, but the line kept moving. Just after 9 pm, there was a rustle of people, and a guard kindly -- but firmly -- held the line for a few minutes, and I remember being frightened at the sudden silence in the crowd as a woman all dressed in black (even with a black veil over her head!) clutching the hand of a little girl about my size, was escorted past. My mother bent down and whispered "That was Mrs. Kennedy and Caroline Kennedy". They had just finished praying at the casket, and were leaving, and the silence was interrupted by the soft whispers of the crowd as they recognized her.

After six hours, entering the Rotunda was very solemn. Many of the people in line were crying, and I was fascinated by the honor guards standing so still that they looked like statues. After the six hour wait, walking by the casket, with the American flag the only spot of color in a sea of black and grey (except for the flowers, which I think were white), only took a few moments -- we were gently encouraged not to pause, but to keep moving.

And, then we were finished. By this time, it was around 9:30 or so, and we had been standing in line for almost 7 hours, with only a hamburger for lunch at noon. My mother's feet were killing her, after hours standing in those black patent leather stilettos. My dad had to pick her up and carry her to car, several blocks away, as I trailed behind. By that time, it was seriously cold and our teeth were chattering. We got to the car, but there were no restaurants or diners open, both because it was so late, and because so many businesses were closed for the weekend, so we ended up driving the two hours home tired and hungry (there was a soft-drink machine in front of a closed gas station, my dad stopped and bought us all a drink.) Home about 1 AM, but we were still up the next morning to watch the funeral on TV.

A few weeks later, we drove back to D.C. to visit the Kennedy's grave site. It was surrounded by a sort of white picket fence, to keep the crowds at bay, but you could see the Eternal Flame still burning. I was fascinated at the thought that the flame would burn "forever".
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Old 11-18-2013, 11:50 PM
 
Location: Kingston, ON
415 posts, read 560,728 times
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I was living in Exeter, Ontario at the time. We were being led back into class after the afternoon recess to hear over the loudspeaker that the US president had just been assassinated. A couple of hours later I returned home to find my mother in tears.

Just four months earlier, I had spent that summer with my great-aunt in Santa Cruz, CA. She was the kind of person that would feel right at home with Archie Bunker; she earned the nickname "Aunt Fogey" from the rest of my family, including myself. During that summer, she led me to believe that Kennedy was in the same league as Kruschev and the rest of the Communists; being an extremely naive nine-year-old when it came to what was going on in the world, I had no reason not to believe her. In fact, while sitting on the beach one day, she made a remark about Kennedy being thrown to the sharks, little knowing that, indirectly, she would get her wish just a few months later.
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Old 11-19-2013, 12:28 AM
 
Location: Berwick, Penna.
16,216 posts, read 11,338,692 times
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Quote:
Originally Posted by KingstonBob View Post
Just four months earlier, I had spent that summer with my great-aunt in Santa Cruz, CA. She was the kind of person that would feel right at home with Archie Bunker; she earned the nickname "Aunt Fogey" from the rest of my family, including myself. During that summer, she led me to believe that Kennedy was in the same league as Kruschev and the rest of the Communists; being an extremely naive nine-year-old when it came to what was going on in the world, I had no reason not to believe her. In fact, while sitting on the beach one day, she made a remark about Kennedy being thrown to the sharks, little knowing that, indirectly, she would get her wish just a few months later.
I lived in a community with a "split personality" with regard to the Kennedys and liberals in general; on the one hand, we had a large ethnic-Catholic population who viewed his election as another measure of assimilation and progress. But we also had a strong Ukranian enclave, and some of the families there had seen relatives "back home" simply disappear during Stalin's purges and collectivization. When, in the film "Dr. Strangelove", George C. Scott saw the opportunity for an all-out nuclear attack on the Soviet Union, some people in the local theatre applauded him.

So to the arch-conservatives of the day, JFK was still viewed as "soft on Communism"; and his sexual misconduct was occasionally brought up; and his superficial appeal to the shallow-thinking, celebrity-worshiping PhotoPlay-magazine crowd of the time.

Ironically, I had had the chance to see JFK at very close range only about a year before, when a Democratic fund-raiser at the State Farm Show Complex in Harrisburg immediately followed a livestock show in which my farming family participated. His limo passed within perhaps 25 yards of us, and we were standing on a loading platform on slightly higher ground. A few police were in attendance, but nobody got a very close scrutiny.

On the afternoon of the shooting, I was in my 9th-grade Science class, last of the day before dismissal at 3 PM. Upon leaving, the news of the tragedy spread through the halls, but during the bus ride home, there were several variations of the story. I didn't get confirmation of the President's passing until I turned on the TV set after arriving home.

I was watching the Sunday morning news (normal Meet the Press, etc. pre-empted) when Lee Oswald was shot on live TV. For the first hour or so, it did not appear that the wound was all that serious. But after a half-hour ride to visit friends, we were informed otherwise on arrival at their place.

Within a month, an emotional appeal arose within a portion of the community to rename the town's main street "Kennedy Boulevard", and I am proud to say that at the age of fourteen, I submitted two letters to the Editor of the local daily newspaper opposing the move, which failed. Reason overruled emotion, and history has proven that to have been the right choice.

Last edited by 2nd trick op; 11-19-2013 at 01:25 AM..
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