50 years …

I remember this day, 50 years ago. I heard it over the loudspeaker at school. We heard it on the radio, first, then watched it on television, as we had watched him, his wife, and his children from the moment he was elected. It touched the soul of the nation and we cried together. I cried again as I watched the CBS special Saturday night. 50 years, and the memory has never faded.

2 thoughts on “50 years …

  1. I remember seeing JFK in Oakland not long before he was killed. When the news came of his assassination, the principal asked my teacher to come out of the classroom. We could hear sobbing in the hallway. We were sent home. I remember holding the hand of my little brother and streams of people coming out of their homes, crying and looking for solace from one another. We lived in a poor, predominantly black neighborhood and the sense of loss was overwhelming. It’s the first time I saw my parents cry.

  2. I, too, was at school. The announcement came over the loudspeaker. We went on to our next class, but news reports were broadcast over the loudspeaker. Lives were forever changed.

    bigsurkate, on a mountain top in Big Sur

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