50 Years

As someone old enough to remember JFK's assassination, I feel compelled to write about it today. Even though I don't have anything profound to say.

I was in the third grade, Mrs. Owens' class. I remember her going to the doorway to see Mr. Buck, the principal. Then she came back and told us the news. It must have been shocking, though I don't remember feeling much of anything.

We watched TV for the next several days. I think I saw Jack Ruby kill Lee Harvey Oswald on live TV, though there were so many replays that I can't be sure.

I remember the 1960 election at our house. My ten-year-old sister was a Nixon fan; she had a Nixon headquarters sign in her bedroom. She couldn't understand this later as a 17-year-old supporter of Bobby Kennedy. I remember her coming downstairs from her attic bedroom in 1968 to tell us that Bobby had been shot after the California primary.

This has been a kind-of-stream of consciousness post. From the JFK assassination to the 1960 election to Bobby's death. They all blend together for me.

There have been so many mass killings and assassinations since 1963; it's hard to remember how shocking JFK's death was back then. I won't say we were innocent as a country, but maybe we were naive.

I don't know, I was too young.