I was a third grader in Mrs. Munyon’s class at Aragona Elementary School in Aragona Village, Virginia Beach, Virginia. On Friday, November 22, 1963 we were interrupted during class by the intercom system.
After the characteristic ‘click’ which typically preceded some announcement by the principal or ladies in the front office there was a message unlike any I had ever heard emanating from that yellow pine box hung high on the wall above the chalk board.
It was radio programming speaking in a manner which was difficult for me to discern because of all the talking by various people. Along and along I came to understand that there had been a shooting in Dallas and that the victim was the President, John F. Kennedy.
I’m afraid that my orientation to the world at that time was quite lacking in both guile and worldly experience — and I did not grasp the gravity of what was being said.
I took the word ‘wounding’ for precisely that and in my child’s mental picture of events I recall thinking that “they” would probably bandage him up and send him on his way.
It wasn’t until Walter Cronkite announced to the world that he had died that I would engage that darker concept.
I saw that announcement live and only then did I begin to comprehend the true nature of fatality … and just what all this meant to us as a nation.
The assassination of our thirty-fifth President ocurred in Dallas, Texas, at 12:30 p.m. in Dealey Plaza.
Mr. Kennedy was fatally shot while riding with his wife Jacqueline in a Presidential motorcade.
The Warren Commission of 1963-64, the US House Select Committee on Assassinations of 1976-79, and other investigations concluded that the President was shot by one Lee Harvey Oswald — who was also murdered before he could stand trial.
There have been various conspiracy theories proposed and the topic of the Assassination of President Kennedy has been subject to protracted debate over the years.
I remember the period of mourning and 24/7 television coverage. I recall my mother’s tears. Our Cub Scout troop sent a sympathy card and we received a card back from Mrs. Kennedy thanking us for it.
I think I became quite a bit older during those few weeks — less of a kid.
Fortunately there was so much kid left in me that it didn’t squash my spirit but it was a sad time at our house with a little flag at ‘half mast’ on the doorpost and the solemnity of a state funeral and the salute by ‘John-John’ … who is also gone now.
As for my personal views, I consider the entire notion of a single shooter to be quite a bit far-fetched. Also, the conduct of those officials in charge of matters during and after the trip to the hospital appear highly questionable. It is my humble opinion that many of the facts were buried with Mr. Kennedy and that we will never know what happened because of suppression by those same government officials charged with handling decedent affairs.
Tags: Observances