Do you remember where you were on 11/22/63? I do. John Fitzgerald Kennedy (May 29, 1917–November 22, 1963), was the thirty-fifth President of the United States, serving from 1961 until his assassination in 1963.
After Kennedy's leadership as commander of the USS PT-109 during World War II in the South Pacific, his aspirations turned political. Kennedy represented the state of Massachusetts in the U.S. House of Representatives from 1947 to 1953 as a Democrat, and in the U.S. Senate from 1953 until 1961. Kennedy defeated former Vice President and Republican candidate Richard Nixon in the 1960 U.S. presidential election, one of the closest in American history.
I know we celebrate Thanksgiving today, but, as the calendar reminds us, this year it is also the anniversary of the assassination of John Kennedy.
I loved JFK. and at the time of the assassination was in Mexico. Borders were closed and all flights to the US were grounded until Oswald was arrested. A mass exodus was inevitable when the no-fly ban was lifted. I was able to get on an Eastern flight back to NYC 12 hours after airlines resumed service to the US. There were no flights into the D.C. area. So, when I arrived in NYC, I hurried over to Penn Station and hopped a train to the Capital in time for the funeral procession. It was hard to believe that he was dead.
Like everyone else surrounding me, I cried like a baby. Well, I was seventeen years old at the time.
More later.
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