Memories of John F. Kennedy the Kennedy\'s

Memories of John F. Kennedy

The Kennedy's

When I got up that day, the most important thing in the world was the test scores we were going to receive. By the end of the day they seemed irrelevant, and in fact I didn't even open my envelope for another four days, even though they would help determine my future."

It was the day John F. Kennedy was assassinated. My aunt was in the auditorium with all the other seniors, with the envelope containing her state test scores for college placement in her hand. This test covered everything taught in high school whether one had taken it or not. Then Principal stopped everything to tell them about Kennedy. My aunt really doesn't remember the rest of the day very well; like many students she just aimlessly wandered the halls -- at a time when you had to have a pass to step outside the classroom during instructional time. No one stopped her. She didn't open them for four days, having completely forgotten about them. As it turned out she did very well, although the joy of that achievement was always tainted for her.

Then in 1968, Robert F. Kennedy was shot. She and her husband had just moved to a new city and were living in a motel room until they found an apartment. She found it particularly sad to be surrounded by strangers at such a time, and she believed that this had a lot to do with the determination of the young people of that age to try to change the world. They had seen too much ugliness -- both Kennedys, Malcolm X, Medgar Evers, Martin Luther King and a segregationist all killed for trying to make the world better based on their beliefs. She said they were just sick of people using guns to solve world problems and that protesting Viet Nam was a slam dunk after that.

Challenger explosion

My mother tells a touching story about the day in 1985 when the Challenger exploded. She was a teacher, but home that day with a sinus infection, and had the TV on when the Challenger was launched. "I always got a thrill seeing them take off," she said.

Suddenly the view of the rocket got bigger and then shot off in two directions, ironically leaving a smoke trail in the sky in the shape of a Y. She cried, and talked to friends, and then picked up my sister up from nursery school. My sister said, "Mommy the space ship blew up." "I know." "Everybody died." "I know, honey." "There was a mommy on the space ship." "I know." "She was a teacher, too, Mommy." "Yes."

You're a mommy." "Yes, I am." "You're a teacher, too." "Yes, I am."