Every now and then, there is a moment that burns itself into the memory of everyone who is aware of it at the time it's happening. For most of us, the event now known as "9/11" is an example. Fifty years ago tomorrow, there was another example. I know KTK has readers who are too young to remember, but there are many of us who do.
I think I've told before the story of how I found out we were Democrats. It was the summer of 1960 and I was five, almost six. There was a big party on TV, with balloons and confetti and noisemakers. A bunch of adults were singing and chanting, "We want Nixon!" It looked like they were having fun.
I went into the kitchen and asked my mother, "Do we want Nixon?" (I didn't know who this "Nixon" was, just that he was the focus of this big party.) "No!" my mother said. "We want Kennedy!" She went on to tell me that Kennedy was smart and handsome, and even that he had red hair. (As far as I can tell, his hair wasn't especially red, but she attributed red hair to almost anyone she admired, because she liked red hair.) It was later in that talk that she famously explained what a Republican was: "Republicans are selfish, greedy people who want to keep all their money for themselves and not give any to poor people!"
So, John F. Kennedy was my candidate, even though I really had no idea what politics was about. When he won, of course I was delighted, and then he was my President. I was encouraged to write him a fan letter, and that photo at the top of the diary was the image the White House sent me a 5x7 of in return. I understand that, in the world of adults, not everything was going smoothly during the Kennedy administration, but I didn't experience it that way.
November 22 was a Friday in 1963, as it is this year. By now, I was nine and in the fourth grade. We were doing some kind of written exercise in school when the teacher suddenly went out into the hall. There was some commotion out there, and after a while, she came back in with a radio. "Children," she said, "the President's been shot!" On the radio, Walter Cronkite was talking. I remember being surprised and troubled. In my safe and privileged world, my understanding was that adults had everything under control, so how could this have happened? I thought, Well, but, the President can't DIE, can he?
We continued working on our papers, the teacher working at her desk, as Walter Cronkite filled air time with any information he could get his hands on. Police were chasing a suspect, who later turned out to be Lee Harvey Oswald; it seems to me a theater was involved. Suddenly there was a pause on the radio. Silence, with a trace of whispering. When Walter Cronkite said the President was dead, our teacher nearly jumped out of her skin. Several children began to cry, and the teacher did too. I think I was too stunned to cry, although I was both sad and very alarmed. If adults had let matters get so far outside their control that such a thing had been allowed to happen, well then, it suddenly seemed as if anything could happen.
They sent us home, and I am sure my mom talked me down, although she certainly must have been at least as upset as the teacher. I don't remember details after that preserved-in-amber half hour or so. But that was the first big crack in my innocence, my first indication that seriously bad stuff could happen and no one could prevent it.
Were you around when John F. Kennedy was assassinated? What memories do you have of the event?
If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.
John F. Kennedy
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Kitchen Table Kibitzing is a community series for those who wish to share part of their evening around a virtual kitchen table with kossacks who are caring and supportive of one another. So bring your stories, jokes, photos, funny pics, music, interesting videos, and so forth. We would also appreciate links—including quotations—to diaries, news stories, and books that you think this community would appreciate.
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