November 22nd

"...all of us... will bear the grief of his death until the day of ours." - Adlai Stevenson

On November 22nd, 1963, the unthinkable happened. The President of the United States, a young, handsome, and witty man, with a beautiful wife, and two young children was assassinated. His name, of course, was John Fitzgerald Kennedy. He was the first Irish Catholic President ever elected to the highest office in the land.

I was a Senior in high school at the time when our principal, through the P.A. system announced that he had been shot. He then left the radio on so that all of the faculty and students could hear. It was early in Southern California where I grew up - and when the broadcaster announced that our President had died, at approximately 11:00 AM PST, everyone was simply stunned. We looked around at each other but none of us spoke.

Some of us, like myself, who idolized President Kennedy, were heartbroken. Word quickly was passed that an all-school assembly would take place shortly. I don't remember how much time elapsed until the entire student body, along with all members of the faculty assembled in our gym, but it was a grim and silent affair. The thing that stood out in my mind then - and still does now - was when one of our teachers, Mr. Lanzarotta, recited the Walt Whitman poem, "O Captain, My captain". Many in the assembled crowd couldn't help but sob. Others like myself, somehow held back the tears - until later.

We were released from school shortly afterward. But it was not with the glee that would usually follow an early dismissal from school. There was absolutely nothing to be happy about.

I arrived home to find a tearful grandmother with the Television on. Both my mom and dad arrived home at their normal times from work. They, likewise, were very upset, fighting back the tears. For one of the very few times I can ever remember, we ate while in front of the TV - a practice not ever condoned in our household. We spent most of our next three days in front of that television. Mealtimes too.

My family was an Irish Catholic one - just like JFK. So that was one of the reasons why I idolized him. I've often told people that, aside from family pictures and Jesus, Kennedy's was the only other person whose picture adorned the walls of my family home. The other reasons I suppose were many. He was the first President I ever really paid any attention to. I imagine that was because of my age - nearing adulthood. Also, because of his relative youth in comparison to the man he was replacing (Eisenhower). Other attributes that appealed to me were his incredible wit and beautiful wife and family.

He inspired many in my generation and his death - at least to me - was the beginning of the end of innocence. Only a few short years later, I volunteered for his brother, Bobby, who was running for President. His assassination was the final blow to my innocence.

The Kennedy brothers offered so much hope to us all back then. Yet today, 47 years later, JFK's assassination seems to merit only brief mentions in the newspapers. It doesn't seem to be as important as Justin Bieber winning awards at last nights American Music Awards show.

I suppose that is how life - and, eventually death - goes. But, for those of us who were around in those days, we will never forget where we were when we heard the news of the assassination of JFK.

Old Fart Mike