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The day the world almost stopped.
November 22, 1963 by Terry Broxson
    My Best High School Memory Contest Winner 

November 22, 1963, was not my happiest memory of high school, but the clarity of memory and events is what makes it unforgettable.

If one were to ask me, "What do you remember the best about high school?" It was the day an assassin killed the President.

Politically my parents were democrats, which of course, made me a democrat. Later I became independent. In 1960, when I was fourteen and in junior high school, I joined the Youth for Kennedy. I wanted the "New Frontier" that then-Senator Kennedy envisioned.

On Friday afternoon, November 22, 1963, just past 12:30, at Midland Lee High School, lunch had just finished. I sat in geometry class. Sam Volpe, our teacher, also served as the basketball coach. I understood basketball a lot better than geometry.

Leslie Hines, the principal of our school, came on the loudspeaker and announced, "President John Kennedy has been shot in his motorcade in Dallas. I will put the radio broadcast on the speaker system so we can all follow this news."

A few minutes passed, and we heard Walter Cronkite tell us the President had died. Mr.  Volpe had no words. As the class sat stunned and shocked, Mr. Hines came on the loudspeaker again and said classes were now dismissed. He encouraged everyone to go home and be with their family.

We watched television. We followed the news, a numbing experience. Friday night in Texas meant football, in this case—the last game of the season. Lee was playing our arch-rival, Midland High.

I did not know it at the time; high school football games were canceled across the country. But not in Midland, Texas. I am sure the powers, whoever they were, had hurried meetings. No doubt there were opinions on both sides. But that night, the Lee Rebels played the Midland Bulldogs.

Midland High won 14-0. I think the city lost.

Today, thinking about those events, it was not surprising the football game was played. In the 1960 Presidential Election, Kennedy carried the state of Texas by a little more than fifty percent of the vote. In Midland, Kennedy received thirty-four percent.

The country was glued to the television for the next few days as the sadness played out before our eyes. Jack Ruby shot and killed Lee Harvey Oswald. Were we horrified another life was lost? Or did we silently rejoice? 
 
We watched the funeral procession and felt the emotions of the people lining the streets. Through blurry eyes, we watched six white horses pull the wagon carrying the flag-draped coffin, followed by a riderless horse. We saw Jackie in black holding the hands of Caroline and John Jr., wearing their matching coats of light blue. We watched John John salute.
 
We observed as brothers Robert and Ted lit the eternal flame marking the gravesite.
 
We cried. 

John F. Kennedy was buried at Arlington National Cemetery on November 25, 1963. Fourteen days earlier, the President was at Arlington for the Veterans Day Ceremony. As he stood on the hallowed grounds that overlooked Washington DC, he remarked to Congressman Hale Boggs, "This is so beautiful. I could stay here forever."

   


 
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