Remembering November 22nd, 1963

Where were you when President Kennedy was shot? That seems to be a question I've heard most of my life. Could the tragedy actually have happened fifty years ago? The events are imbedded into so many memories. Even those who were not yet born at the time know the story as if they'd been alive. News stories and books keep the memory strong.

I was in first grade during the fall of 1963. My favorite songs were Puff, the Magic Dragon and My Daddy is President. My mother was expecting a child. November is hunting season in the northeast, and dad was a hunter. A visit to the doctor assured my parents the baby wouldn't come for several weeks, so dad headed into the woods of upstate New York.

On the morning of November 22nd, I rode the bus to school. It was late in the afternoon when the principal came to the door and softly spoke to my teacher, who turned the TV on. We had one of those old black and white television sets where the picture appeared green. It hung from the ceiling in the corner of the room. I remember crying.

They sent us home from school early. Mom had been busy and hadn't heard the news. She was shocked, but attempted to act calm for us kids. We watched the news all evening. Since dad was gone, I slept with my mother that night. When I woke the next morning, my sixteen-year old brother informed me my mother was at the hospital. She'd been so upset she went into early labor, quietly got up from bed, and called the ambulance. My uncle drove to New York state to retrieve my father.

My baby sister was born on November 23rd. Happy 50th birthday Kim!

Where were you when President Kennedy was shot?

~Dawn Marie