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Friday, November 22, 2013

With Certainty

John F. Kennedy 5/29/1917 -11/22/1963

See the post:  Killing Kennedy February 21 2013 ( )
·       The axiom is that every one of his generation knows just where they were when they heard Kennedy was shot. The reality is that many also recall precisely how it felt as word broke, in a staccato series of news bulletins.

·       They can still hear the voice that brought the news, breaking into a song on the car radio or disrupting a lesson over a school public address speaker. They remember the prayers offered up from sidewalks and sofas, some whispered and others wailed. They can still taste the tears.

·       Even 50 years later, Americans who lived through the day President John F. Kennedy was killed do not have to pause to summon recollections.



12:57 P.M. ~msn news

Unlike any other day in my lengthy life, this morning, as I sat in front of my computer in my home office, my mind transported me to a specific cold day in November 22, 1963.
While I don’t remember how exactly this morning started, I do remember how very similar every morning went:  from getting up and finding my beautiful mother in the kitchen bundled up and wearing a warm sweater, the smell of coffee carried throughout the house by ventilation.  Just like in the coffee commercial with the coffee percolator.  She always woke up at 4:30 to get breakfast ready for everyone, and prepare lunches to carry us throughout the day.  This morning was a typical November morning with a cold dry weather (clear blue sky, not unlike today in Western Washington.
This morning like some others, I had some errands to run for my mother after school so I was driving the family station wagon and dropping of my step brother at his school along the way.  Everything about this morning was like any other day, different from present day in that we didn’t start our day by checking social media, and turning on the television to catch the newscast.  We actually had pleasant family conversation about upcoming plans (Thanksgiving Day), and the preparation involved.
I remember the drive to town (14.5 miles, I just mapquested it) for school like it was yesterday.  I had traveled that route for so many years that I could do it with my eyes close.  Typical of the old days, I knew people all along the way.  I knew who owned most of the farms that I passed along the way.  Whenever I stopped for gas or at a general store, people would greet me by name.
School started like any other day.  We congregated in the halls of the school, and discussed the weather, the upcoming holiday short few day vacation.  It was common to ask another student what answer did you get for problem number 7 in the Algebra homework assignment or some other subject.  Like an episode of the very popular Twilight Zone television series, we had no clue that within a couple of hours our lives, not just now but forever, were about to change.  The pain inflicted on the population of the country couldn’t be any more painful if we had been blood related to our beloved and respected president John Fitzgerald Kennedy.
From the actual time of the incident my recollection remains the same as previously described in the post: please read it.
This morning was different for me in that for a split second of concentration, I actually felt myself being transported to that day and time in 1963, and my eyes teared up as I recall the terrible events that followed and that forever changed my and everyone else’s life, and future.  I don’t know if we will ever know exactly what was lost that day, no one can predict with certainty what might have been.  The best is yet to come….

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