by Veritas Merit

Created on: November 22, 2011

It is the 48th anniversary of the assassination of President John F, Kennedy. The news media appears to have ignored the date. Television, newspapers, radio, are not reminding the public of this day of certain infamy. The front page -or even throughout the papers, no mention of Kennedy's assassination. Even the city desk of the Boston Globe seemed surprised when I called asking about the lack of coverage.

Here is the rub. I don't really want to be reminded of that ugly day in 1963 when JFK was killed. I don't need to see the Zapruder film on my TV. I don't need to hear the words of Walter Cronkite breaking the news to a shocked American citizenry. I don't need to be reminded in any way, because I remember.

I remember the news as my 9th grade math teacher Mrs. Dickenson informed us that the president had been shot. I recall being moved into the auditorium where the principal told us that the President had died. I recall the shock, horror, outrage, anger, fear, frustration, and grief that we all shared. I recall making a stupid remark in front of my principal, a mentor for years to come, but a remark so regrettable that I deserved his wrath. I don't recall even touching the several granite stairs as he literally threw me out of the school. Disappointing him was more painful.

The weekend was a blur as my scout troop left for a camping trip. Keeping us busy and away from the media of the time seemed to be the goal of our leaders. Even on the heels of the event, we knew that there was nothing to do but carry on. So we did. Of course, the nightmare had just begun. We had another assassination to see, a funeral of such sadness that the pomp and grandeur of the capitol could not match the anguish of seeing John-John salute his father's casket.

We all came of age in that time. We all knew that something more than the president had died. We all sensed that the glory of America would not ever, ever, ever, be the same. It has not been the same since. I have lived in the America and the world that followed, and it has suffered under the weight of its own avarice, insensitivity, and corruption. November 22, 1963 needs no anniversary to remind us of what we lost.

Yet, I am sad that the news has let the date fade. I am sad because it reminds me that the future from then until now has been a hard slog. Bright memories come to light too, but on that day something special died in America. Not to acknowledge that date on this one displays the negligent stewardship of our recent past, and predicts more negligence in the future. I regret this fact nearly as much as I regret my glibness before my principal on that day. While I shall never forget my words then, I shall not forget the tragedy it is to miss an opportunity to salute the life of a president who made me want to be American.

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