Any baby-boomer can tell you where they were and what they were doing on the day President John F. Kennedy was assassinated. This is what I remember about that day.
by Leon Pantenburg
Fifty years ago I was 11 and in sixth grade at Gilbert Elementary School in Gilbert, Iowa.
John F. Kennedy Jr. salutes his father’s casket as it passes during the funeral procession. President John F. Kennedy was assassinated Nov. 22, 1963.
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About mid-morning on Nov. 22, some of us in the classroom were watching Senor Enrich Elliot on the black-and-white television as he taught a Spanish language lesson. We obediently chorused back the words and phrases when he put his hand to his ear and prompted our responses.
I had followed the 1960 presidential election with considerable interest for an eight-year-old. The reason was, John F. Kennedy was a Catholic, a decorated World War II Navy veteran and a Democrat. Those were good reasons for my parents to vote against the other ticket, with presidential candidate Richard M. Nixon, a Republican Protestant, and his running mate, Henry Cabot Lodge.
Dad even went so far as to get two “Nixon Lodge” bumper stickers. He combined the two so they read “Dodge Nixon.” Then he pasted it on the bumper of our 1957 yellow Chevy station, next to the “Kennedy for President” logo.
Our Spanish lesson was interrupted by the sixth grade teacher, Mrs. Lois Platte, bursting into the room shouting: “The president’s been shot! The president’s been shot!” She went to the TV, changed channels and we started watching the drama unfold in Dallas.
Everything started to get a surreal, “This can’t be happening,” feel to it. We clustered around the TV, and there was complete silence as we listened to the latest reports. Mrs. Platte was crying quietly in the back of the room, and the whole area seemed to have a dark, somber cloud hanging over it. Vincent Schwank, the school principal, stopped by our room to confer briefly with Mrs. Platte and I recall school being let out early.
There were no classes the next day, and all we did at home was watch TV. There was nothing else on: At the time, there were only three major channels at the time, and they signed out at about 10:30 p.m. Besides, all of us were mesmerized by the events occurring. Even at age 11, I knew that the world had changed forever, and that was pretty scary.
Over the next few days, I saw the playback of accused assassin Lee Harvey Oswald being captured and murdered. Our entire family watched President Kennedy’s funeral live, and I recall Black Jack, the prancing black horse, leading the casket caisson in the parade. I remember that the horse’s saddle was empty, with a pair of boots in the stirrups boots facing backward. Another vivid memory was seeing John F. Kennedy Jr., about three-years-old at the time, salute his father’s casket as it went by.
Today, we commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of President Kennedy’s murder. I will never forget it.