IN MEMORIAM
Friday was just another day in the life of a seventh grade student. Bored with Science class, she began daydreaming about Thanksgiving which was just six days away. “Wonder if Mum will make mince meat pies,” she thought hungrily.
Her reverie was broken by the crackle of the classroom loudspeaker.
“Attention, teachers and students. We have just heard that President Kennedy has been shot while in Dallas.”
It was 9am Honolulu time, 1pm in Dallas. The buzz of student voices quickly filled the classroom. Classes continued on schedule but the concentration level was not there. The question hanging in everyone’s mind ~ will he survive?
School was soon dismissed. The long walk home, usually relaxing, seemed rather mind-numbing.
“Your grandpa had to have surgery on his fingers as he had an accident at work” was the welcome upon arriving home.
The little black and white set was on CBS news, Walter Cronkite in palpable shock. He let the nation and the world know that President John F. Kennedy had died.
Thus began the marathon television viewing something unheard of at her house. There she sat in rapt attention her world crumbling around her. How could this happen? She reminisced about how Kennedy had debated Nixon in 1960, her glimpse into the world of politics. Her mother was taken by the president’s dashing looks; no commentary from her father. Mass that weekend was offered for the repose of his soul and for his stricken family.
Now a spectator to history in the making, what became of that seventh grade student?
If you were around for this event, do you remember what you were doing when you heard that President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated?
Friday was just another day in the life of a seventh grade student. Bored with Science class, she began daydreaming about Thanksgiving which was just six days away. “Wonder if Mum will make mince meat pies,” she thought hungrily.
Her reverie was broken by the crackle of the classroom loudspeaker.
“Attention, teachers and students. We have just heard that President Kennedy has been shot while in Dallas.”
It was 9am Honolulu time, 1pm in Dallas. The buzz of student voices quickly filled the classroom. Classes continued on schedule but the concentration level was not there. The question hanging in everyone’s mind ~ will he survive?
School was soon dismissed. The long walk home, usually relaxing, seemed rather mind-numbing.
“Your grandpa had to have surgery on his fingers as he had an accident at work” was the welcome upon arriving home.
The little black and white set was on CBS news, Walter Cronkite in palpable shock. He let the nation and the world know that President John F. Kennedy had died.
Thus began the marathon television viewing something unheard of at her house. There she sat in rapt attention her world crumbling around her. How could this happen? She reminisced about how Kennedy had debated Nixon in 1960, her glimpse into the world of politics. Her mother was taken by the president’s dashing looks; no commentary from her father. Mass that weekend was offered for the repose of his soul and for his stricken family.
Now a spectator to history in the making, what became of that seventh grade student?
If you were around for this event, do you remember what you were doing when you heard that President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated?
1 comment:
I like the way you wrote this, in the third person. But it still conveys that "I was there" flavor. It was an unforgettable moment in history, wasn't it?
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