I was in kindergarten at Kempton Elementary in Spring Valley, CA, about 20 minutes east of downtown San Diego. My only memory of that day was that I was sitting at a table, there was a sheet of paper in front of me, probably some worksheet, on which in the upper right corner was written “11-22-63” and I remember thinking, “I need to reme…
I was in kindergarten at Kempton Elementary in Spring Valley, CA, about 20 minutes east of downtown San Diego. My only memory of that day was that I was sitting at a table, there was a sheet of paper in front of me, probably some worksheet, on which in the upper right corner was written “11-22-63” and I remember thinking, “I need to remember this date.” That’s my only memory. I don’t remember why I thought I needed to remember that date. I don’t remember the TV, or my parents’ reaction, or anything else. Just that paper, that date, and my mental note to remember that date.
I guess I should be grateful that’s all I remember. Everyone’s memories in the comments here seem so fraught, so filled with fright, or a deep unease. The generation that consciously experienced it does not seem to be over it yet.
And the hate has reached its apogee today because if such an event were to occur, half the country would be openly, crassly, and orgasmically rejoicing. At least back then, with a few already noted exceptions, most of the nation had the decency to be affronted if not horrified.
I was in kindergarten at Kempton Elementary in Spring Valley, CA, about 20 minutes east of downtown San Diego. My only memory of that day was that I was sitting at a table, there was a sheet of paper in front of me, probably some worksheet, on which in the upper right corner was written “11-22-63” and I remember thinking, “I need to remember this date.” That’s my only memory. I don’t remember why I thought I needed to remember that date. I don’t remember the TV, or my parents’ reaction, or anything else. Just that paper, that date, and my mental note to remember that date.
I guess I should be grateful that’s all I remember. Everyone’s memories in the comments here seem so fraught, so filled with fright, or a deep unease. The generation that consciously experienced it does not seem to be over it yet.
Nor are any of us, consciously or not. It has been a chain of events with hate as the driver, in so many ways
And the hate has reached its apogee today because if such an event were to occur, half the country would be openly, crassly, and orgasmically rejoicing. At least back then, with a few already noted exceptions, most of the nation had the decency to be affronted if not horrified.
So true, an indictment of our “rich rule.”