We were home from school after a half day. It was our principal's feast day, Sister Cecilia. At the school I went to, St. Josephat in Chicago, a half day was not unusual. I went home and watched...Bozo, that's what we did every lunch time. I have no memory of my brother's being there...just me and my Mom. A bulletin came over the TV that the President was shot. Fifty years later my heart still sinks whenever a news bulletin interrupts a show. The world seemed to stop, and it would never be quite the same after.
Being so young, remembering images from the days following. It makes me emotional to this day. It was, much like a bad dream.
As an adult, visiting Washington, the one place I had to go was President Kennedy's grave... The first time we went, we were actually turned away, as Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis had just died and they were preparing the grave site. When on another visit we did visit his grave. It is a very beautiful spot, but so very sad. I stood with my family, wondering what might have been.
So today, like millions, I am remembering President Kennedy.
Don't let it be forgot,
That once there was a spot
For once brief shining moment
That was known as Camelot.
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