This is the 50th anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.
I was a student at Officer Candidate School in Newport, Rhode Island, scheduled to graduate on Friday, November 22, 1963. Two weeks before, the President had visited the Naval Base on his yacht, the HoneyFitz. Seeing my Commander in Chief was a thrill for this young officer candidate. During the graduation ceremonies, our commanding officer spoke of the fact that our commissions had been signed by President Kennedy, and approved by the Senate, as the Constitution required. I and my classmates marched out, proud, with our shiny gold lace on our uniforms. We were ensigns in the U.S. Navy, and we were so proud, the buttons were about to pop off our shirts!
I stepped into my new car, bought with the money I would be earning as a naval officer, and drove off, beaming, wanting to march down every main street in the country, showing off my single gold stripe. I turned on the radio to find some music I could sing along with, and I heard an announcer's voice saying, "Dallas is in pandemonium." To no one in particular, I said, "Well, that's nice. Wonder what's going on in Dallas right now." I tried to recall what football game was supposed to be taking place in Dallas. Then the announcer went on, and suddenly it struck me what he was talking about.
I stopped the car, pulled over to the side, sat there stunned, thinking, "this can't be happening in modern‑day America." But it could‑‑and did. I wept for a few moments‑‑the first time I had ever wept as an adult. Around me I noticed that other cars had pulled over, as drivers sat too shocked to drive. A lot has changed in America since that day, and so much of it not for the better. Attacks on presidents have been almost commonplace, and for the rest of us, we have drive‑by shootings, rampant crime, you name it. Did it start then, or had the seeds been planted long ago and were simply beginning to sprout? It was the end of Camelot, and for a rosy cheeked young ensign, the beginning of adulthood.
I was a student at Officer Candidate School in Newport, Rhode Island, scheduled to graduate on Friday, November 22, 1963. Two weeks before, the President had visited the Naval Base on his yacht, the HoneyFitz. Seeing my Commander in Chief was a thrill for this young officer candidate. During the graduation ceremonies, our commanding officer spoke of the fact that our commissions had been signed by President Kennedy, and approved by the Senate, as the Constitution required. I and my classmates marched out, proud, with our shiny gold lace on our uniforms. We were ensigns in the U.S. Navy, and we were so proud, the buttons were about to pop off our shirts!
I stepped into my new car, bought with the money I would be earning as a naval officer, and drove off, beaming, wanting to march down every main street in the country, showing off my single gold stripe. I turned on the radio to find some music I could sing along with, and I heard an announcer's voice saying, "Dallas is in pandemonium." To no one in particular, I said, "Well, that's nice. Wonder what's going on in Dallas right now." I tried to recall what football game was supposed to be taking place in Dallas. Then the announcer went on, and suddenly it struck me what he was talking about.
I stopped the car, pulled over to the side, sat there stunned, thinking, "this can't be happening in modern‑day America." But it could‑‑and did. I wept for a few moments‑‑the first time I had ever wept as an adult. Around me I noticed that other cars had pulled over, as drivers sat too shocked to drive. A lot has changed in America since that day, and so much of it not for the better. Attacks on presidents have been almost commonplace, and for the rest of us, we have drive‑by shootings, rampant crime, you name it. Did it start then, or had the seeds been planted long ago and were simply beginning to sprout? It was the end of Camelot, and for a rosy cheeked young ensign, the beginning of adulthood.
