The Day the President Died

Fifty years ago today, also on a Friday, President John F. Kennedy was shot and killed in Dallas, Texas.  For people around my age, it was our Pearl Harbor, our nine eleven.  I was in school that day at Arbolita Elementary in Mr. Membrez's room.  The principal, Mr. Van Pelt, came into our fourth grade class and told us the news. Some cried; the rest of us sat in stunned silence. That weekend our family watched everything on TV. Particularly etched in my memory are John John's salute, Jackie kissing the casket in the Capitol rotunda, and the riderless horse in the funeral procession. We saw Oswald get shot on live TV. It was a total national nightmare.  We've never really recovered what was lost.  I still sometimes choke up when discussing that day in my History classes.