A Moment in History
By Ashley Schwarzer
November 22, 2008 marked the 45th anniversary of President John F. Kennedy’s assassination. This devastating day in history, as well as the three days that followed, is remembered by all who were alive at the time. Kennedy was the first, and only, Roman Catholic to become the President of the United States. He is also considered, by many, one of our greatest presidents.
Kennedy’s presidency came at a time when America was drastically changing. The presidential debates between Kennedy and Nixon in 1960 were the first ever to be televised. The African American Civil Rights Movement was in full swing. America was becoming more and more involved in what would come to be known as the Vietnam War. Also, the dream of going into space was becoming a reality; the Space Race had begun.
On that mournful day in November of 1963, in Dallas, Texas, President Kennedy was shot and killed. The Vice President Lyndon B. Johnson then became the president. The loss was a shock to the entire country. It was concluded that the assassin was Lee Harvey Oswald, although there is still controversy on that subject. The next few days were filled with sorrow and grief, reaching its peak at the funeral when millions watched on television the casket procession and his heartbroken family.
During the week of the anniversary of his , Coach Jeffries’s American History classes were given a short assignment. The students were to interview someone who lived at the time of Kennedy’s assassination and write the story of their experience through those hard days. Many of us remember exactly what we were doing on 9/11; similarly, many people remember the day John F. Kennedy was assassinated. The following story is one person’s recollection of the event.
November 22, 1963 started like any other school day. I was sitting in my third grade classroom learning about a certain subject; I cannot recall what it was. As in most of St. Joseph Catholic School’s classrooms, the teacher was a nun. Suddenly, another teacher swept into the room and requested to speak to our instructor. The two nuns walked to the doorway and spoke in hushed whispers. It was immediately noticeable that they were discussing something very serious. The conversation was soon over, and our teacher returned to the front of the room visibly shaken. She announced to the entire class that President John F. Kennedy had been shot. We said a prayer for him. The rest of the school day went by in a blur. Solemn faces could be seen everywhere; after all, he was the first Catholic President.
When I arrived at my house after school, the black and white TV was already on broadcasting the somber news. I do not remember the moment when I found out that he had died. The sadness was overwhelming, especially because I knew he was Catholic like my family. I found it hard to believe that he had been shot and killed by those guns people used to hunt animals. The political effects of this tragedy never crossed my mind.
Living on a farm, my siblings and I did not watch much TV—only a few specific shows during the week. For the next few days I watched more television than I ever had in my life. After our chores and homework, we would sit in the living room and watch all of the news reports. All of our usual shows were cancelled so I was continually stuck watching the news of the president’s over and over again. There was so much going on in a short period of time. John F. Kennedy was shot, and then the man who shot the President was killed. I had trouble making sense of all of the events that were occurring. My mother guided us through the experience.
At school we watched the funeral. The nuns put two or three classes together to make sure we all got to see part of it. I can clearly remember when the casket was being pulled by the horses. It was moving slower than I thought was possible. That solemn week will be forever etched in my memory.
This moment of history will never be forgotten. For those few days, the country was united in grief at the great man’s tragic.
