It was about 1:00 on Friday afternoon and we had just returned to class from our Lunch break. Math class was just beginning when the public address system in the front of the room came to life. It was broadcasting a radio newscast of some sort. Most of the students began to giggle and look around assuming the Principal had inadvertently hit the wrong switch in his office. Very quickly it was apparent this was not a joke. President John Kennedy had been shot while riding in a motorcade in Dallas Texas. The broadcast was reporting that he was being rushed to the hospital in very serious condition. The classroom suddenly became very still. Not certain of the protocol in this situation, the teacher headed for the Principal’s office for instructions. The silence began to be broken by sobbing and small talk. The speaker interrupted our thoughts again, The President was dead. Although we were not aware of it, our world, at fourteen years old, would never again be the same. School was dismissed and everyone headed for home.
Television came of age in the next few days. Up to this point, we watched it mostly for entertainment. There was a 15 minute news broadcast in the evening, but that was not of much interest to teenagers. Now we watched it for every bit of news we could find. Walter Cronkite from CBS News had been the voice announcing President Kennedy’s death. Now the world tuned in to get his guidance. All programing on the three available channels were constant news broadcasts. The world seemed to come to a standstill. No one new what to do. Churches opened their doors, 24 hours a day for impromptu worship. Neighbors gathered on front porches and in each others living rooms. Everyone was always within earshot of TV or Radio broadcasts. Slowly, the story was revealed. The President had been assassinated. Numerous conspiracy theories began to become public. It was repulsive news , but it was so compelling that you dare not miss a word being broadcast.
At fourteen years of age and a high school freshman my unquestioned sense of security was now in jeopardy. Our country had been so proud of the Kennedy’s and their message of hope and determination. Some of us had been prompted by the Inaugural address a couple of years before, to look into becoming an Astronaut in the new Space Program. Everyone knew someone who was planning to join the Peace Corps when they finished High School. Government service was now something at the top of many Guidance Counselors agendas. Now what? Who would carry the touch of hope now for the younger generation?
It was during this time of uncertainty that my family drew it’s strength from each other and our unspoken belief in God. My Grandma and Grandpa drove up from Evansville, phone calls were made to all of the relatives and we began to pray. Our Mom and Dad gathered my brothers and I in our living room and asked us to pray for the United States and for John-John and Caroline Kennedy. So with one eye on the Television and the other on each other we stayed close together that terrible weekend and we realized that we had more strength when we were one.
In the following months we began to heal as a nation, but it was never again going to be the same. There were now questions where before assumptions had been. There was distrust where security had once flourished. My family became stronger through this process. We now seemed more appreciative of each others presence.
In just a couple of years I was going to have to declare a college major. At his point the Peace Corps was now getting serious consideration. One thing was certain, what ever I did as an Adult, John Fitzgerald Kennedy’s example was never far from my mind.
