November 22, 1963

Our parents generation holds the above date firmly in their memories.  Where were they when they found out the terrible news coming from Dallas?  I was born until 1966, so I wasn't a gleam in my parents eye at the time.  My parents were newlyweds having been married two months earlier.

For the current generation, it is hard to be told horrific news and having no Internet or social media to view or search for information.  There was just radio and limited television.

Over the past 47 years of my life, I heard some brief accounts of what happened locally.  I cannot rewrite history or jump into all the theories surrounding the assassination. For those who those who were school age at the time, the common thread seems to be confusion. That Friday being the Friday before Thanksgiving and long before gearing up for shopping became commonplace, most area schools dismissed early.  Most were not told of what happened until they met their parents at home.

The other common thing they came home was to see a parent or grandparent crying.  In 1963, many citizens were sons and daughters of immigrants or immigrants themselves.  They left a world behind to find hope and peace.  In one violent act, their world changed forever. For some strange reason, some people thrive on the negative, but most live off of hope.  Somehow, born or not, we all lost a little of hope that day.