I remember where I was

Last November there was hardly a mention but this year, probably starting in late summer, we no doubt will go wall to wall with the fiftieth anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.  All the familiar facts and information and players will be there: Dallas, Dealey Plaza, Lee Harvey Oswald, Mrs. Kennedy’s pink suit, Jack Ruby, the riderless horse with the boots reversed in the stirrups, muffled funeral drums, John-John’s salute, conspiracies, the Warren Commission and it will seem, to those who were alive at that time, like it was yesterday.  To the children of those who remember it will seem familiar from past anniversaries and recollections that they have heard.  But then, without any big new anniversaries to be observed November 22, 1963 will move back a page or two in the history books and the people who remember that Friday will disappear with it like Pearl Harbor and the members of the World War Two generation.  In its place will be 9/11 and the “I remember where I was…” and the “can you believe it’s been…? torch will be handed to a new generation.


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