It was especially a bad year for my family. My uncle Clyde passed away in the spring. In early fall my Uncle George died. One of my Dad's friends passed away. In December cancer claimed the life of my Grandmother (Dandy) Elizabeth Lacock.
I was seated in my elementary schools library when Principal Sam King placed the radio next to the intercoms microphone just in time to hear "The President has been shot."
Soon after word came over the radio, President Kennedy has died from gunshot wounds.
I was only 11 years old, but recall thinking this cannot be right. Here it is 1963. We are civilized and these thing don't happen anymore. Maybe back in 1865, but not now.
We were told to return to our classroom. Miss Bohn, my favorite teacher, was sobbing. About ten minutes later we were told to go home.
My family stayed glued to the TV. We saw Jack Ruby gun down Oswald as it happened.
What a terrible, terrible time.
I pray it never happens again.
