When I left home for Arlington High School on Friday, November 22, 1963, it didn’t seem an extraordinary day. School went normally until afternoon when I was in Reading Lab. This was a required nine-week course for Freshmen, to help us increase our reading speed. I didn’t mind the class, because we got to spend most of our time reading library books of our choice in special reading carrels where a light shined on the lines of the book at increasingly rapid speeds to force us to speed up.
I was deeply engrossed in a good book when the school PA system came on. This was unusual since most announcements were made during homeroom before third period. After a short burst of static, the principal usually came on to give us whatever announcement he had, but this time, nothing came on except screaming and sounds of hysteria. We couldn’t figure out what was going on. The teacher was as confused as we were. Several minutes later, an intelligible voice at last rose above the uproar and said, “President Kennedy has been shot”.
In disbelief, we listened hopefully for word that his injuries were being successfully treated. Schoolwork was forgotten for the day as we sat in stunned silence. Later it was confirmed that he was dead.
On the day of his funeral, school was cancelled so we could stay home and watch the events of the day on television. What a solemn occasion it seemed. In many ways, he was such an idealistic president, and when he died so tragically and suddenly, it seemed like part of the American dream died with him….or, perhaps it was just the rose-colored glasses of my childhood being cast aside.
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