Just yesterday, I was with a group of people, like myself, who were alive when John Kennedy was assassinated, and all of us could recall where we were and what we were doing when we heard the news. I was eight years old, it was recess, and my friend Kevin and I were running around doing what kids do. We saw a couple of sixth grade girls standing off by themselves, crying. We went over to find out what was going on, and they told us that the President was dead. That he had been shot, while on a trip to Dallas, Texas. We made fun of them. Everyone knew that you couldn't kill the President and anyone who thought different was just plain dumb. When we went back to class, after recess, our teacher told us to sit quietly and wait for an announcement from the Principal. And then it came over the PA system. The President had been shot and was dead. All the students who rode the bus were to go to the cafeteria and wait, those who walked to school, were to go home. I lived a 45 minute walk away, so by the time I got home and turned on the television, (Black & white, and we only received two channels.) there wasn't much new being reported. A couple of days latter, I saw Lee Harvey Oswald murdered on live television.
This photo has been previously published.
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