like everybody else, i remember exactly where i was when i heard the news: on the school bus, coming home from first grade on a sunny thursday in houston. we were especially raucous that day--only reason i remember this is because, after our bus driver stood up, turned to face us, asked for quiet and told us what had just happened up in dallas, the utter silence the rest of the ride home was deafening.
i remember the bleak stillness up and down birdwood road as i got off the bus and trudged home that day--the street was completely devoid of life. i remember my mother sitting open-mouthed and silent in front of the television when i walked in the door.
as that grim, black-&-white weekend played itself out, three things made an indelible impression on my young psyche: (1) the tv on continuously, with that flag-draped coffin the centerpiece of almost every shot; (2) my mother's sudden cries of "oh my god, they shot him!" as the assassination of the assassin unfolded before her very eyes; and (3) every neighbor who had casually and robustly wished for the downfall of the king being struck dumb with horror when it actually happened.
and to this day--as cynical as i am, and knowing all that i now know about the dark side of camelot--whenever i look up and realize november 22 has rolled around again, it all comes back in a flash.
5 comments:
Historic moment indeed. I was watching THE HISTORY CHANNEL yesterday, and they showed footage from the time he arrived at the airport in Dallas, to the motorcade and the blowing of his brains.
This all happened before I was even born, but I can only imagine it was like 9/11 or the Challenger explosion.
On stage at the Boston University Theater painting scenery for a production of a play on the youthful conversion of St. Francis of Assisi.
I then ran downstairs to break the news to a fellow design student who was working in the costume shop and who adored JFK.
That night in Boston was unbelievable. The bars, and restaurants that had TVs, were jammed to the gills, not with people drinking to get drunk, but with shell-shocked Bostonians who wanted to see the developments on the tube but didn't want to be home alone doing it. People sat or stood with arms locked around each other, strangers held onto each other and cried together. The need for supportive human contact was universal that night.
My future husband was teaching English and Drama in a high school in some city in Orange Co., California. Thunderstruck, he went to the principal and asked for the procedure to inform parents that the opening of the fall production would be canceled that night. He was informed that there would be NO cancellation.
He later discovered that a the theaters were all open, the restaurants were full and parties were being thrown together everywhere; the conservative Republican area was out to celebrate. By coincidence, each of us was at the polar opposite end of the reaction spectrum from the other that night.
It is hard to describe what Kennedy's death meant to so many Americans. My parents talk about it in the most reverential of ways, both die hard Republicans.
I was around and remember the tale end of what Kennedy's death began:
It was a very turbulent period of American society and in American politics. The rough decade between Kennedy's death and Nixon's resignation really was like nothing else. It felt like America was coming apart.
So today by comparison, as difficult as things are, as divisive as politics is, as manifestly sour is our national mood, it is a whole lot better than it was for that decade of pure craziness.
I remember my mom telling me about it, and thinking that my parents had this moment in their lives that was part of this huge historical thing. I was upset that I didn't have something I would never forget.
And then the Challenger blew up.
wat: back then, more like 9/11 squared--the events to which i allude hit like a bombshell in our placid little world.
will: this comment deserves to be a blogpost in itself--put it on your calendar for next november 22, willya?
noblesavage: i disagree--the turbulence of the sixties were merely ripples on an otherwise stable body of water; what's happening today is a tsunami.
judi: be careful what you wish for, babe--there are many challenger-class memories yet to come.
to all of you: no comments on the picture that accompanied this post? truly, i'm disappointed.
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