11/22/63





I can’t believe I forgot.
I had just turned 13.
My stepdad and I were on our way to Northern Michigan to go deer hunting when we noticed cars were pulling off the side of the highway and stopping. It seemed the people were just sitting there and staring straight ahead.
We pulled over and my dad turned on the radio and searched for a station. The words we heard were “The President has been shot-The President has been shot. Today in Dallas Texas while in a motorcade—“.
My Dad pulled back on the road and we hurried, sped to the hunting lodge. We found the rest of our party huddled around an old TV.
They were just sitting there staring; a few had drinks, conversation was kept to whispers.
They were just watching-not wanting to miss a word.

The men sat late into the night talking. Dinner that night, usually a festive affair was a somber wake.
I was only 13 but I knew the world had changed. Mr. Kennedy had been killed.
I can’t believe I forgot what yesterday was.
I remember so much of that day and the days that followed. A kaleidoscope of memories and emotions.
President Johnson being sworn in.
The unending lines of people passing his casket.
The world it seemed stopped to watch his funeral. For that one day all people it seemed were Americans.
The stoic courage of his wife.
His son saluting.
Black Jack the horse.
Jack Ruby killing Lee Harvey Oswald.
It was a day that changed your life and mine-the day a promise died.

The music may have slowed but the song goes on.
On that day 11/22/1963 a baby girl was born in Lansing Michigan to an unwed Mother. A beautiful little blond baby. A month later at Christmas time she came to live with us. I had another sister to go along with the red headed one. They both are the loves of my life. Happy Birthday Stephanie.
And Life Goes On.