[This is my annual diary in remembrance of this day in 1963.]
I was in second grade at Limerick Avenue Elementary School in Canoga Park, California (a suburb of Los Angeles in the San Fernando Valley). It was a sunny day; we were all outside playing in the free time following lunch. Suddenly the "freeze" bell rang (when this bell rang, we were literally supposed to freeze in place until the monitoring teacher would blow her/his whistle, after which we would line up and be led into class). But the bell was early — way too early.
My teacher, Mrs. Marshall, led us into our classroom. Her face was red, and it was clear that she had been crying.
Despite the fairly recent Supreme Court decision outlawing prayer in the classroom, she told us to kneel down at our chairs and pray for President Kennedy. I do not remember if she told us why, if she told us that the president had been shot. But down on our knees we went, and a few moments later came the awful announcement over the loudspeaker that President Kennedy was dead.
After so many years, I cannot recall if we were sent home from school early. But we were out of school until after JFK's funeral.
Although my parents were (and still are) ardently conservative Republicans, they were shaken by the terrible event. They could not stand JFK's politics, couldn't stand that he'd beaten Nixon, but never, ever would they have advocated or condoned assassination, and they grieved for his young family.
I remember seeing (not reading) the newspapers and seeing some of the TV news coverage. And I remember watching at least part of the funeral procession. I remember the killing of Lee Harvey Oswald, and knew enough later on to pay attention to the Warren Commission.
The event was much bigger than I could have grasped at that young age, and it took me decades to finally understand the magnitude of the nation's loss, of what might have been had he lived, and had he not been followed in violent death by his brother and by Martin Luther King, Jr.
My children's big "where were you?" moment was 9/11. I have now witnessed two such. I hope never to witness a third.
Do you remember the day when JFK was shot? Where were you then?
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NonnyO's posted a touching diary last year that includes important footage of the assassination, news accounts, and aftermath.