Today marks the 49th anniversary of John F. Kennedy's assassination, that horrible Friday in 1963. Lee Harvey Oswald shooting from the 6th floor of the Texas school book depository building using a $19.95 mail order rifle had shot and killed the president of the United States. Of those of us old enough to remember that day most of us can tell you where we were and what we were doing. What I would like is having you readers share your memories.
I'll start off.
I had just finished lunch hour at Aurora Central High School in Aurora, Colorado. I was a sophmore. I was on the early schedule from 7:50 am to 2:12 pm. I had a study hall after lunch and we were supervised by Coach Lee Rosa. He was a no nonsense ex-Marine drill instructor. Shortly after the period started a kid who had been listening to a transistor radio summoned Mr. Rosa. We were then informed of what was transpiring in Dallas. I had two more classes that day Coach Don Robinson's art class and Coach Jim Graff's woodshop. During art class we didn't receive much information and went about our class business quieter than usual. By the time we were in wood shop the word come down that the president was dead, Radio was piped through the school via the intercom. Guys were sitting or laying on the work benches in total silence. When school let out I had to take a Tramway bus across town. I lived with an aunt during the week to attend school and came home to north Denver on the weekends. Downtown Denver was so quiet that afternoon it seemed weird. The only sound was the traffic on the street, no conversations. It was the same at home the entire weekend. Life was never quite the same after that Friday.
Now you tell your story.
I'll start off.
I had just finished lunch hour at Aurora Central High School in Aurora, Colorado. I was a sophmore. I was on the early schedule from 7:50 am to 2:12 pm. I had a study hall after lunch and we were supervised by Coach Lee Rosa. He was a no nonsense ex-Marine drill instructor. Shortly after the period started a kid who had been listening to a transistor radio summoned Mr. Rosa. We were then informed of what was transpiring in Dallas. I had two more classes that day Coach Don Robinson's art class and Coach Jim Graff's woodshop. During art class we didn't receive much information and went about our class business quieter than usual. By the time we were in wood shop the word come down that the president was dead, Radio was piped through the school via the intercom. Guys were sitting or laying on the work benches in total silence. When school let out I had to take a Tramway bus across town. I lived with an aunt during the week to attend school and came home to north Denver on the weekends. Downtown Denver was so quiet that afternoon it seemed weird. The only sound was the traffic on the street, no conversations. It was the same at home the entire weekend. Life was never quite the same after that Friday.
Now you tell your story.