Nov 15 2009
Kennedy Assassination My Deepest Sorrow
No event in my life as a member of the Baby Boomer Generation is so impregnated in my memory as the assassination of John F. Kennedy.
Kennedy was my first real hero. More so than Eisenhower or MacArthur, who were my parents’ heroes. More so than Mantle or Mays. Kennedy was an icon for me and for all my classmates. His death not only shocked us; it nearly paralyzed us. Most of us teenagers had never experienced a loss so great. Many of us had no previous experience with death at all. It was a very scary, life-changing event.
I remember where I was at the moment I heard the news, of course: Sophomore year English Class. Mrs. Nelson, whom, up until the moment I saw her silently crying, standing in front of the class, was non-existent as a human being for me.
Bobby, Jackie and Ted in the funeral procession. The photo of Jackie Kennedy was taken at Arlington National Cemetery.
The three Kennedy’s destined for greatness, Jack, Robert, Edward, at Kennedy retreat in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts.
Mrs. Kennedy and the children were icons as well. We followed their every activity during the three days following the assassination. There was no school, at least for me. Honestly, I was so upset, I could not imagine the World even continuing to exist, much less worry about high school. It is possible that schools were closed. I can’t even remember. It did not matter.
All that mattered was being in front of the television set for every hour of the day that television broadcasting covered the events of the days through the funeral. Television was still mostly in its infancy in 1962. I think everything was still black and white. Our television might have been 19 inches. Still, for those of us who lived in rural Montana, it was our amazing window to the World. After November 22, 1963, a World that would NEVER be the same.
Forty-seven years is a lifetime. All but Caroline are now deceased. Jackie, John-John, Bobby, Ethyl, Teddy. A dynasty is dead.
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