Silly Thinking
*with Jim Farris*
2011453 Curiosities served
November 22nd 1963
Previous Entry :: Next Entry
Read/Post Comments (0)
Hi this is "guest blogger" Jim Farris with a few thoughts on November 22nd 1963.
It was a Friday and I was in elementary school. Fridays were the best day of the week because we got to go into the auditorium and watch movies. Not real movies but short educational films produced by Encyclopedia Brittanica, Disney, and smaller companies. Most of them started with "Adjust this picture and soundtrack". It was a great break from the mundane and dull.
I lived in smoggy Southeast Los Angeles and Tweedy elementary was across the street from the Purex plant and the Avalon mattress factory, so spending and hour in the dark was a real break from the jet stream and black top of everyday life.
Our hour was up and the lights came on as Mrs. Chapman was leading the class back to our room when the principal, Mrs. Lucas, halted our progress and took our teacher aside. I was standing about ten feet from them and watched Mrs. Chapman's eyes grow large and her skin turn pale. She took a breath and looked at the kids. Most of the class was laughing and talking. I was looking at them intensly for some reason and knew something had happened. Maybe someone's Mom or Dad had been hurt or the school had to be evacuated. Maybe THE BOMB had gone off. The two women huddled together and whispered then Mrs. Chapman adjusted herself and led us into the classroom. It was about 11:45 AM I think so what had happened had just broken on the news.
She called the class to order and made the announcement that the president had been shot and ordered me to turn on the radio. It felt as if the world had stopped. Everyone staring straight. No one making a sound. This could not be happening. President Kennedy was young and full of hope and promise. We were going to the moon, we were going to fight wars with the peace corp not guns. He had kids younger than us.
You read of assassinations in ancient history. It could not be happening in our time, right now, in front of us.
We were 11 years old.
This was impossible.
It was all too real. And within minutes: "The flash... apparently official... President Kennedy died at..." a blur. Just empty. An empty feeling in the pit of my stomach I had never felt before.
The fog of the rest of that day comes into focus in little tiny pieces now. Somewhere around 2 pm listening to the reports on the radio I was writing one sentence over and over again, not really aware of what I was doing.
"Why? Why? Why? Why?" is all I wrote.
My teacher came up behind me and touched my shoulder gently.
"I don't know Jim." and walked by slowly.
For the first time in all my days in school a teacher adressed me as another human bieng not a teacher talking to a student.
My parents picked me up after school. Usually I walked home but today was different. Mom (as ussual) thought I was just a kid and couldn't figure out the enormity of the situation and told me so as dad took me aside to try and help reach my mind around something that he didn't understand either.
The next clear memory was Sunday morning. Dad was making his big Sunday breakfast with the smell of bacon in the air. The Sunday paper with the color comics. Just like every Sunday except the TV was on. We never had the TV on at that time. But this was not a normal Sunday with the newspaper framed in black with full page pictures of President Kennedy lying in state in the capital rotunda and conversation about one thing only. We were just about to sit down to eat when they switched back to Dallas Texas to show Lee Harvey Oswald ("that bastard" as my Grandma called, him never using his name) bieng transferred, when a man jumped out in front him and killed him. On TV. Live right in front of you. A murder.
The assassination of President Kennedy changed the world. It changed the United States and the idea of what kind of people we were and what kind of government we had. It changed our view of how secure we felt.
It changed my relationship with adults, never again was it kids and adults the way it had been. On a day like that when you see adults crying in the streets and TV newsmen not sure of what to say or how to act, when parents and teachers can't explain the pain any better than you can. When we all feel the same thing at the same time on the same level.It brings you to a different place.
And This Place has never been the same since.
It was a Friday and I was in elementary school. Fridays were the best day of the week because we got to go into the auditorium and watch movies. Not real movies but short educational films produced by Encyclopedia Brittanica, Disney, and smaller companies. Most of them started with "Adjust this picture and soundtrack". It was a great break from the mundane and dull.
I lived in smoggy Southeast Los Angeles and Tweedy elementary was across the street from the Purex plant and the Avalon mattress factory, so spending and hour in the dark was a real break from the jet stream and black top of everyday life.
Our hour was up and the lights came on as Mrs. Chapman was leading the class back to our room when the principal, Mrs. Lucas, halted our progress and took our teacher aside. I was standing about ten feet from them and watched Mrs. Chapman's eyes grow large and her skin turn pale. She took a breath and looked at the kids. Most of the class was laughing and talking. I was looking at them intensly for some reason and knew something had happened. Maybe someone's Mom or Dad had been hurt or the school had to be evacuated. Maybe THE BOMB had gone off. The two women huddled together and whispered then Mrs. Chapman adjusted herself and led us into the classroom. It was about 11:45 AM I think so what had happened had just broken on the news.
She called the class to order and made the announcement that the president had been shot and ordered me to turn on the radio. It felt as if the world had stopped. Everyone staring straight. No one making a sound. This could not be happening. President Kennedy was young and full of hope and promise. We were going to the moon, we were going to fight wars with the peace corp not guns. He had kids younger than us.
You read of assassinations in ancient history. It could not be happening in our time, right now, in front of us.
We were 11 years old.
This was impossible.
It was all too real. And within minutes: "The flash... apparently official... President Kennedy died at..." a blur. Just empty. An empty feeling in the pit of my stomach I had never felt before.
The fog of the rest of that day comes into focus in little tiny pieces now. Somewhere around 2 pm listening to the reports on the radio I was writing one sentence over and over again, not really aware of what I was doing.
"Why? Why? Why? Why?" is all I wrote.
My teacher came up behind me and touched my shoulder gently.
"I don't know Jim." and walked by slowly.
For the first time in all my days in school a teacher adressed me as another human bieng not a teacher talking to a student.
My parents picked me up after school. Usually I walked home but today was different. Mom (as ussual) thought I was just a kid and couldn't figure out the enormity of the situation and told me so as dad took me aside to try and help reach my mind around something that he didn't understand either.
The next clear memory was Sunday morning. Dad was making his big Sunday breakfast with the smell of bacon in the air. The Sunday paper with the color comics. Just like every Sunday except the TV was on. We never had the TV on at that time. But this was not a normal Sunday with the newspaper framed in black with full page pictures of President Kennedy lying in state in the capital rotunda and conversation about one thing only. We were just about to sit down to eat when they switched back to Dallas Texas to show Lee Harvey Oswald ("that bastard" as my Grandma called, him never using his name) bieng transferred, when a man jumped out in front him and killed him. On TV. Live right in front of you. A murder.
The assassination of President Kennedy changed the world. It changed the United States and the idea of what kind of people we were and what kind of government we had. It changed our view of how secure we felt.
It changed my relationship with adults, never again was it kids and adults the way it had been. On a day like that when you see adults crying in the streets and TV newsmen not sure of what to say or how to act, when parents and teachers can't explain the pain any better than you can. When we all feel the same thing at the same time on the same level.It brings you to a different place.
And This Place has never been the same since.
Read/Post Comments (0)
Previous Entry :: Next Entry
Back to Top
