Today is Friday, November 22, 2024.
If you were alive on Friday, November 22, 1963 — and were over, say, 5 years old — you understand how dramatically, and traumatically, America shifted that day.
If you weren’t, there is no way you can comprehend it.
The murder of President Kennedy was a horrific, galvanizing moment in time. It happened 61 years ago today, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
I was in 5th grade. Since September my friends and I had walked to and from school. We gathered on High Point Road, cut through the Staples High School athletic fields and parking lot, sauntered down North Avenue, walked across open farmland, and arrived at Burr Farms Elementary.
We were like the “Stand By Me” boys: talking about kid stuff, reveling in our independence, figuring out each other and the world, in a world that would soon mightily change.
Minutes before school ended that beautiful Friday, the teacher from next door burst into our room. “Kennedy got killed!” she yelled. A girl broke into spontaneous applause. Her father was a leading Republican in town.
Our teacher slapped her face.
Usually, our teacher wished us a happy weekend. That day the bell rang, and we just left. No one knew how to interpret her reaction. We’d never seen a teacher hit a student before.
Then again, we’d never heard of our president being murdered.
As my friends and I gathered for our ritual walk home, we suddenly had Something Big to talk about. For the first time in our lives, we discussed news. We had no details, but already we sensed that the world we knew would never be the same.
That vague feeling was confirmed the moment we walked down the exit road, into the Staples parking lot. School had been out for an hour, but clots of students huddled around cars, listening to radios. Girls sobbed — boys, too. Their arms were wrapped around each other, literally clinging together for support. I’d never seen one teenager cry. Now there were dozens.
At home, I turned on the television. Black-and-white images mirrored the scene at Staples a few minutes earlier. Newscasters struggled to contain their emotions; men and women interviewed in the street could not.
The president was dead. Now it was true. I saw it on TV.
Walter Cronkite on CBS, announcing the death of President Kennedy.
My best friend, Glenn, slept over that night. The television was on constantly. The longer I watched, the more devastated I became.
John F. Kennedy was the first president I knew. My father had taken me to a campaign rally in Bridgeport 3 years earlier. I could not articulate it then, but I admired JFK’s energy, was inspired by his youthfulness, and vowed to grow up and (like him) make a difference.
Now he was dead.
Bill Mauldin captured the grief of a nation.
Saturday was rainy and blustery. I watched more TV. Like most Americans, I was obsessed by this unfolding tragedy. Like them too I had no idea that the impact of that weekend would remain, seared in my brain and heart, 6 decades later.
Sunday was the first day I cried. The raw emotions of all the adults around — in the streets of Westport, and on the television screen — finally overwhelmed me. I cried for the dead president, my fallen hero; for his widow and children; for everyone else who looked so sad and vulnerable.
Then — right after noon — Jack Ruby killed Lee Harvey Oswald. Once again I sat transfixed by the TV. I was stunned, and scared.
Monday was a brilliant fall day. President Kennedy was laid to rest under a crisp, cloudless sky. The unforgettably moving ceremony was watched by virtually everyone in the world with access to a television.
To my everlasting regret, I did not see it live. Glenn said we could not sit inside on a day off from school. Rather than risk being called a nerd (or whatever word we used in 1963), I chose playing touch football at Staples over watching history. I was in 5th grade. What did I know?
The coffin, at Arlington National Cemetery.
The next day we went back to school. The Staples parking lot looked exactly as it had before that fateful Friday. Our teacher never said a word about slapping the girl who cheered President Kennedy’s assassination.
Thanksgiving arrived on schedule 2 days later. At our dinner — like every other table in America — the adults tried to steer the conversation away from the awful events that had consumed us for nearly a week.
In the days and months to come — as the country slowly, painfully, pulled itself out of its collective, overwhelming grief — I devoured everything about President Kennedy I could find. I saved Life, Look, Saturday Evening Post. I ordered the Warren Commission report. Like so many others I still have it all, somewhere.
In the years that followed, my admiration for the young, slain president grew, then ebbed. But it never died. He remained my political hero: the first president I ever knew, cared about, was mesmerized by, and mourned.
When President Kennedy was killed, journalist Mary McGrory said, “We’ll never laugh again.” Daniel Patrick Moynihan — who worked for JFK — replied, “Mary, we will laugh again. But we will never be young again.”
Sixty-one years ago this morning, I was a young 5th grader without a care in the world.
Walking home that afternoon, I could never not care again.
That day is burned into my pre-teen brain. I too was in the halls of Burr Farms Elementary school, my memory was the 5th grade. Teachers were crying and hugging… what was up? Everyone loved JFK and this was a monumental moment. The entire month was then consumed with watching tv, listening to the pundits and trying to be a kid…
The all of a sudden there was a new pop group on Ed Sullivan that helped us get past the sorrow.
With all due respect, Bruce, within two years the coffins were beginning to come home from Vietnam with protest dividing the country. Within another two years, race riots broke out across the country. Within another two years, RFK and MLK were assassinated. IMO, we never recovered from the loss of JFK, at least in the turbulent 60’s.
I was at Staples and they brought the entire student body to the gym and announced that the President had been shot. Then we were released to our classrooms, mostly optimistic JFK would survive. Then the “loudspeaker,” crackling like popcorn in malfunction, announced that JFK was dead. My male teacher lowered his head and began to cry. I remember little after that but shock, fear, sorrow and an inability to do anything to change anything. It was our generation’s 911.
Great piece, Dan. I was in Sr. Jean Rene’s class in 3rd grade when we heard the news. We were sent home as well and I sat with my grandmother and watched tv all weekend. After Ruby shot LHO, it became clear to me that there might be more to this horrible story. Years later, in the 80’s, George Michael Evica, an investigative journalism professor at Univ of Hartford had a weekly broadcast on the school’s radio station aptly named “Assassination Journal.” It was a fascinating program. Lots of literature available by many like him – a great site is The Mary Ferrell Foundation .
Good writing, Dan. The particulars are different but the feelings are the same. I was a new immigrant to the US, a freshman in University , and loved being here. That gradually changed with time. I still love being here. I will never be young and so enthusiastic again.
I was a young fifth grader as well. I remember an announcement came over the PA system that JFK had been shot. The nun looked shocked. I kept thinking why was he hunting? I guess I couldn’t imagine that someone would shoot the president. Sunday, I was outside my house playing and my Dad came yelling out the door. He had just seen Oswald shot on live TV.
I was at Hillspoint School, 6th grade. The school did not make an announcement. I was supposed to stay after but was told to go home instead “because something terrible has happened at home”. I walked home worrying that my parents or siblings had died. No one was there, which made matters worse. I waited and waited until my mother called and told me that JFK had been killed. The days after in our home was much as Dan described. We did watch the funeral. Like Dan, my mother had taken us to see JFK at the Bridgeport train station. It was an exciting moment, seared into my memory-63 years ago.
We were in Staples, Class of ’64, when we heard the news on the PA system. I think we were in shock. We were dismissed and I drove to see my mom, who was working at the Famous Artists School. When I walked in everyone was in tears. I will never forget that day and particularly his funeral.
I was in London, Uk . Coming out of the cinema at Leicester Square with my boyfriend. As we approached the tube entrance there was a newspaper vendor shouting “Read all about it. Kennedy shot”. I remember it vividly. The Brits found Kennedy very glamorous compared with our stuffy Prime Minister, Harold Macmillan. JFK had visited the UK a few months before he was killed.
Dan, I have said this before: this is one of your best pieces of writing (regardless of the subject).
To give a couple of concrete examples of the impact the Kennedy family had on so many of us, I wrote two letters to the White House when I was only 7- and 8-years old respectively. The first was shortly after the inauguration; the second was in connection with Jackie Kennedy’s televised White House tour in February of 1962.
Those letters were seemingly not part of a school assignment. I had reached out years ago via a Facebook group to old friends and other classmates from PS 179 and it turned out that no one had any recollection of such an assignment or otherwise had written any such letters.
And the writing of those letters was not the end result of any kind of directive from my parents because a) that was not their style and b) my dad voted for Nixon.
I was, though, encouraged at a young age by my parents to be aware of current events. And whether it was their relative youth in politics, telegenic good looks, efforts to do public good, JFK’s inspirational speaking style, or some combination of these attributes, JFK and Jackie absolutely made a real—and very positive—impression on a young boy growing up in Queens.
Finally, to my old friend and Staples ‘71 classmate (and fellow collector of memorabilia): Margaret, I’m sure it will come as no surprise to you that I still have the typed letter from a Special Assistant to President Kennedy and the engraved card from Jackie that were sent in response to my letters (and they they remain two of my most cherished early childhood possessions).
On this long awaited rainy morning, blustery and gray, your memory has transported me back to 4th grade at Hillspoint School, where I too was a “walker”, back in a time when walking a quarter of a mile by yourself at age 8 was acceptable! We were not told anything at school, but the shock of walking into my house to find my mother sobbing was completely out of the norm. With our little black and white TV reporting in the background, she shared what had happened. It seemed unreal, and took time to sink in to my reality. Our home was solemn for days. With only 13 channels, all the major stations were consumed. We did watch the funeral. My deepest memory being an 8 year old, was thinking how could this happen? And seeing Caroline and John-John and knowing they no longer had their dad.
I was in high school in 1963 and, as a side note, next Monday I’m going out to lunch with the English teacher I had in the 1963-64 school year. I remember the day JFK was assassinated and being glued to the TV for the next 3 days.
2nd Grade at Hurlbutt Elementary in Weston. Recall Mrs. Bates somberly making the announcement to the class. A moment always remembered.
This is indeed one of Dan’s signature pieces of work and an annual flashback for me because it brings JFK back to life (in my mind). Dan always reminds us of the teacher who slapped his classmate in the face (probably for regurgitating what had been expressed by a parent at home). I am interested in two things: What became of the original slapped student and what became of the teacher that slapped (assaulted in current parlance) the student? I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.
I was very devoted to JFK. When the votes were all counted on Election Day ‘60, my mother encouraged me to write him a letter of congratulations. I was 8. Within two weeks I received a handwritten reply on Senate letterhead (he had not yet been inaugurated). My mother saved it and gave it to me framed with a photo of JFK when I graduated from Staples in ‘70. It has hung in every office I’ve ever had.
JFK’s presidency was all too short. But it was all about the future. He was concerned about the fitness of our youth. It didn’t take him long to release a Presidents Council On Youth Fitness that gave chubby, well (over) fed Westport kids like me a chance to be recognized for getting in shape. He knew what priorities were, how to set them and how to lead. He also knew that leadership is about inspiring others to do things as opposed to just doing things for them.
I was an Infantry Platoon Leader, 3rd Infantry Division, drinking with my buddies in the Officers Club in Kitzingen, Germany.
The Officer of the Day strode into the bar wearing his hat “covered.” He was therefore packing a loaded .45-caliber Colt automatic (wearing a hat in an officers club, unless armed, is such an etiquette breach that the offender must buy the bar a round).
He pointed at the bartender: “Close the bar.”
He turned to us: “Red Alert.”
This lieutenant was our drinking buddy, so we thought it was a joke and started laughing.
He looked us dead on: “I’m not kidding…
THE PRESIDENT HAS BEEN SHOT! THIS BAR IS CLOSED! RED ALERT!”
At the motor pool, my four APCs (Armored Personnel Carriers) already had “Live ammo on board, SIR!” and we roared into the forest to begin our advance to pre-selected defensive positions near the East German border.
We sweated ‘till dawn awaiting the probable Russian attack; doubtful we could hold, even if we used our (then TOP SECRET) battlefield nuclear weapons…yeah, we were ready…you were safe.
What a time it was, a time of innocence taken away. A young, handsome, intelligent and visionary man gone in such a horrific manner. We were somewhat comforted by the words of Walter Cronkite, CBS Newscaster and glued to the images of Jackie Kennedy holding her beautiful children and the image of three year old John Junior saluting the horse drawn casket clicking through the streets of Washington.
As a twenty year old contemplating what the next steps might be after college, I was inspired by Kennedy’s visionary idea of the Peace Corps and joined serving for two years.
The years of Camelot; too short. May we someday have more leaders like him again.
Has anyone else read 11/22/63 by Stephen King? It’s among my favorite books of all-time, and captures this era in a remarkable way.
It was fascinating. It also could have been 400 pages shorter, IMHO.
Dan, I was given this book a while ago (probably because of how much I love JFK and the Kennedy family in general) and hadn’t opened it because I’m not a Stephen King fan. What do I do now? I would love to hear the basis for your evaluation.
I like your comment but my like star is a black hole 😎🇺🇸
Tom, it’s part of why I “deplore” WordPress. I would suggest that we all donate $$$$ to 06880 so that it can afford to upgrade to a more functional platform. One big gap is that Dan is forced to personally edit every response because the originator can’t do it themselves (intentional pronoun usage).
You are soooo right on. This is my third try to comment first two erased‼️
How about a go fund me page?
How much 💰 is required?
Maybe a “Special Holiday Donation” would tweak donors?
I can’t migrate off WordPress. Way too embedded here after 15 years. And by and large it works really well for me. My suggestion is that people proofread their comments beore hitting “submit”!
As for the Stephen King book: The premise is great. But it’s just way too long and drawn out.
That tragic day unfolded again with the recent election of a convicted felon and con man. Democracy so cherished by JFK is in jeopardy,. Just as his assassination brought sadness to many so has this recent display of hatred and contempt for anyone who disagrees with the president elect. Great statesman like JFK and would be horrified at this change in our country. May God rest his soul and pray the America survives as a democracy for all people, not just the rich
Please explain why hiring an individual with 34 felonies to be President of the United States is okay with you. Talk about TDS…
Russell, are you the same Russ Gontar that I went to Mahackeno with? How’s life been to you?
Yes, indeed. In fact, we went over this awhile back. Alls good here. Same for you I hope.
Yep. Not as much fun as Mahackeno. But PDG (pretty damn good). This is my 5th hit on the thread so Happy Turkey Day to you one happy camper to another.
Are you talkin ta me?
Yeah, I’m talking to you.
Did your employment include working with felons? Did you ever hire felons? Should felons teach Sunday school or become teachers?
And for extra points on these questions that you won’t answer, who won the 2020 election?
Those should be pretty easy to answer, no?
They should be and are, but people who like to blather on about “Trump derangement syndrome (TDS)” are irrational, dishonest actors. And cowards, too afraid to answer an easy question.
WE all need to move on. It is what it is. Stop the whining and start planning for the 2026 mid-terms. BTW, the Constitution says nothing about a felon being elected President and I detest the man.
Who do you think you are to say such things about me? It is only my respect for 06880 that I don’t rip you another one right here.
You really do need help Russell.
Easy Tom. Remember, the Dude Abides.
Hey man, chill. No need to threaten me. 06880 readers just want know why it’s okay with you that a felon will become president.
Tom, I know this audience is tough for you because you’re a good soldier who follows a lawful order when it’s given and in your world actions speak louder than words. But remember: This isn’t Khe Sanh or the A Shau Valley. This is Westport. The answer you should consider providing is one we know is true: The Constitution and the will of the people are what rules in this country (until the next election). Semper Fi Bubba
there’s going to be another level of – and it’s necessary, what happened can’t continue to be masked, layers of ‘masks’ – tearing up of complacency, assumptions, false sense of who’s who and who’s not, when the full scope of who and what happened, and why is finally released to the public.
let’s ALL hope nobody stands in the way of that revelation, and that esp JFK and RFK’s closest family and friends who were like family get real closure, peace of mind, heart, and soul back.
BOTH political parties, The Worst of BOTH political parties and non-political parties groups have to be held accountable (even if now it’s ‘just’ editing the narrative of their roles in USA history).
My recollection of that day was similar to 66 Staples classmate Carl Swanson. It was class photo day in the gym. Everything following was a blur. I was told to go to the auditorium and when I got there everyone seemed stunned and a few were in tears. That’s when I learned the horrible news of Kennedy’s death. I think we all were in mourning all winter. Then in February there was a break in the gloom when the Beatles came to America. Need I say more?
Thank you, Dan, for sharing your story which was full of the innocence of youth. All of us of a certain vintage have our memories of that day – imbedded in our minds and hearts. I have often wondered over the years about our country’s trajectory and how it might have differed if JFK had lived. Like many other things, that, we will never know.
On 11/22/1963- Camelot ended!
I was in a second year med school pharmacology lab when one of my classmates ran in crying with the news that President Kennedy had been shot!
We were in shock.
We asked- When, Where, How, Who and Why!
We watched Walter Cronkite looking for the answers. We got details. We saw Ruby shoot Oswald- on TV!
We had investigations and the Warren Commission report.
We got more details.
To my knowledge, the “why” of the assassination was never really answered- then or now.
Why did Oswald shoot President Kennedy!!
Nothing for sure! Just conspiracy theories!
But Camelot had ended!
Beautifully written Dan. On that morning I was a freshman at Northwestern on my way to class with a load of books under my arm. There was a buzz in the air, people talking in a way that I knew something was very wrong. I got to class, heard the news and went back to my dorm to watch Walter Conkrite for the rest of the day. The feelings you expressed were all about me, sadness, horror and the end of innocence.
My memory as a first-grader at Burr Farms that day was that Kennedy’s death was announced in classrooms over the school loudspeaker system.
Peggy Stein Dorf (staples65)
I was one of the those kids in the parking lot.
You as usual have captured the moment perfectly.
A time of total disbelief.
I was coming back from lunch to my first “big girl” job in the Pan Am building over Grand Central. The traffic on 42nd St. was stopped and people were leaning into car windows listening to the radio and passing the news to everyone else. We were sent home early from work. He was the first president I voted for as I had just turned 21. On Sunday we watched Jack Ruby shoot Lee Harvey Oswald. It was a very confusing time and I cried all weekend.
I was 13, an 8th grade private school student. I grew up, and I am guessing one-half of my fellow students also were raised in conservative Republican households. Unlike Dan Woog’s shocking accounting, not one student or teacher in my school cheered. EVERYONE was stunned and sad. When I arrived home, I found my (very Republican) Mother crying. John F. Kennedy and his family were loved by many, BOTH Democrats AND Republicans, and both friends & foes throughout Planet Earth…
A brilliant essay, Dan. Your best, I think, in my decade of reading (nay, devouring) “06880.”
I summed up my memory of that fateful day in my last lecture before I retired 20-odd years ago: “You will never know what it was like to be 25 years old, to be finishing your Ph.D. in English, and to have Jack Kennedy as your president.”
Fast-forward 10 years. I had a consulting job in Dallas, and at lunch hour decided to change the air in my lungs by walking down to the Texas School Book Depository and the Grassy Knoll. I believe the phrase “the scales dropped from my eyes” could have been coined for that moment. Once I saw the angles and remembered the horror of the Zapruder film, with Kennedy being driven to the right and the rear by the shot that nearly blew his head off, I could never again believe the official version of his death and do not to this day.
Not coincidentally, the course of our country since November 22, 1963, has been straight downhill.
Don, I agree 100% with your assessment. I had the same reaction when I was at Dealey Plaza — especially after visiting the 6th Floor Museum, and looking out at what Lee Harvey Oswald (an average marksman) supposedly saw. (My other reaction was: Wow, the Grassy Knoll is a lot smaller than I imagined!)
I remember seeing the Life magazine photo of Oswald holding his rifle, at a very odd angle, with strange shadows. It looked like a very poor Photoshopped photo (though that word had not yet been invented), one that I could easily see as a 5th grader. But it took years before I heard anyone else voice that opinion.
JFK’s reactions in the Zapruder film, the “magic bullet” — none of it adds up. I long held hope that the truth would come out in my lifetime. Now I don’t think it will.
I was a teenager in my native Denmark. I was staying with my aunt in Copenhagen, while attending studying. We were watching TV, it was 7:30 p.m. when the news came, I think there was a bulletin before the confirmation, then the awful news. I will never forget my aunt’s outburst “My God, they killed him”. I went down to my parents house that week end, and even though I went to a jazz club with friends, we talked about the assassination. That whole week end my friends family and most Danes did what the American’s did, we sat glued to the TV.
Kennedy was greatly admired in Denmark and most of Europe I believe. My dad was politically astute, and he was a great admirer of Kennedy, he particular liked how he dealt with the Russians, it was of some concern to us, since we were in fairly close proximity to Russia.
Dan, Ditto.
Beautifully written, Dan.
Maybe if we could dig up the Dulles’ brothers we could interrogate them and find out who really killed JFK.
A great and finely written memborandum Daniel. We were in the Fall of our senior year. I was presiding over a meeting of the Staples Players officers. The announcement came in two parts from Mr. Jacobson, the vice principle. He first announced that Presient Kennedy had been shot but his condition was unknown. A few minutes later he announced that President Kennedy had died of his wounds. Stunned, we quickly ended our meeting. I had an event to preside over at scout camp that evening, so I had to drive home, quickly pack and leave for Sherman CT. At home, my mother was in the kitchen. I some how got out that President Kennedy had been assassinated in Dallas. She, of course, was shocked. I just remember being angry and confused and wishing that I didn’t have to go to this event. I wanted to sit, think, process what had happened. Just as you described, Daniel, this was an event that changed all of our lives, and certainly informed my generation as we moved into the sixties, the Vietnam era, the Johnson years… When you open our yearbook, a couple of pages in is a page that is blank except for the words, in large letters, “Lest we forget.” on the opposite page is a large portrait of President Kennedy. Even today, in our national consciousness those words should and need to be echoed…Lest we forget!
John Parriott – Staples ’64
Beautifully written
Danny, if we put this current political climate into perspective, comparing the president elect today, to our assasinated hero, is not possible.
JFK’s press conferences were smart and funny, even for a 9 year old.
As it happened:
Bobby DeMally and I we in detention in Miss Demattio’s 5th grade home room. She came in crying and told us to go home, principal Leonard Mattelits came over the loudspeaker and announced JFK’s death, Bobby and I looked at each other and cried as well
My younger neighbor , Eddie Cowden and , in disbelief, witnessed Lee Harvey Oswald murdered on television.
This collective tragedy, like 9/11, plays in my head like a news loop. It remains an open file that more factoids get thrown into,
Remembered every Thanksgiving.
Thanks Danny.