On November 22, 1963, I was in grade school in Dallas. I had little concern for anything more than boys or being part of the “in” crowd. I remember a pretty autumn day. Then came lunch.
I was in the last group to go to the cafeteria (since my home room teacher’s name started with “W”). By 12:45 I was on the playground playing four-square. The basketball coach had a transistor radio to his ear. He was surrounded by every kid on the playground. Everyone was whispering, “something has happened to the President.” I knew who the president was, he was the young guy with a gorgeous wife and kids. Soon the announcement was made to return to our home rooms.
Everyone was silent, even in the hallways. Sometime after 1:00, the principal came on the PA system and said, “President Kennedy has been shot. He passed away at 1:00. The school will be closing and your parents have been notified to pick you up.” Then there was a prayer. I remember having a lot of questions that weekend, but I don’t remember getting answers.
50 years ago we didn’t live in an instant society like we do now. We depended on radio, TV and newsprint for news. We didn’t know what we didn’t know, so there was less hysteria. But maybe I’m looking at this point in history through rose-colored glasses. I do remember feeling a sense of loss and sadness. Everyone in black … that little boy saluting his father’s flag-draped coffin.
50 years later there’s been assassinations, terrorism attacks, and moments that froze history in its place. Every incident revolves around the inevitability of death. No one escapes it.
The Bible says, “Oh death, where then your victory, where then your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:55-56). Thank you, Lord, for releasing me from the fear of death and giving me the assurance I have in You.
Tagged: American history, grief and loss
