Where Were You...

The friendliest place on the web for anyone who enjoys boating.
If you have answers, please help by responding to the unanswered posts.
I was six. Couldn't understand why my parents, uncles and aunts and their friends back in Ireland were so upset.

Sad day.
 
I was 5 years old and vividly remembered watching TV a day or so later and wondering why all the stations were broadcasting the same thing.

Ted
 
I think I was in the fourth grade at school . This is my brother’s birthday.
 
I was in high school. Had gone home for lunch and saw the news. Went back to school and ran into a teacher ads asked him if he knew the president had been shoot. He asked me what the punch-line was. He couldn't comprehend the reality.
 
An 8 year old kid coming home from a school event with Dad listening intently on the radio in his Ford Falcon. First time I ever saw him worried.
 
18 months old. Don’t remember much. Lol!
 
I was in high school. It was lunch time and we were across the street at the Barrel Cafe , where you could get a hamburger and a coke for 50 cents, and smoke a Lucky Strike. Heard about the shooting and returned to school.
 
Just stepped off the bus in North Carolina for advanced training after graduating from boot camp at Paris Island. We were told to get ready to go fight the Russians.
 
8th grade history class. Our teacher, Mrs. Anderson, came in crying and dismissed the class.
 
4th grade in S FL. Probably finishing up a duck and cover drill. Super sad and weird times for a 8 y/o. My father working very hard to get SR 71 airborne; unknown to us at the time. My mom crying for days.
 
Last edited:
I was walking home from school when I was in the 5th grade with David Rocco. An older kid rode by on his bike saying the president had been shot. I’ll remember that moment for the rest of my life. It’s one of those memories that’s still so vivid.
 
A sad story here.

David works for us and grew up and lived in Charlotte, NC until he moved here with us in 2012. He was 8 years old at the time. It was the Friday after Thanksgiving. He and his parents were on the way to visit relatives in Bristol, TN and driving through the mountains and taking time to stop at trout farms fishing. They pulled up to a small country store and gas station to get drinks and snacks. The people there were celebrating. They were saying the President had been killed and were joyful.

His parents though it had to be the most inappropriate joke ever, even to rejoice jokingly about a President being killed, and it surely couldn't be true. Back in the car, they turned on the radio. Horrible reception in the area but finally found a station and the assassination was the topic. His mom cried. He asked his parents, "What is wrong with those people at the gas station." His father said, "They're just very sick and bad people filled with hatred and bigotry." Even to an 8 year old it was incomprehensible. It wasn't for several years that he appreciated the fact that his parents had voted for Nixon but were still devastated over the assassination of Kennedy. He said the rest of the drive was listening to the radio and very little talk.

As a child and young person, I thought, probably just hoped, those times were past. However, I read on social media and heard people, even relatives, basically say it would be a favor if Obama was assassinated or saying they wouldn't be upset. It was strange to me as I grew up in a progressive part of the state. It was interesting that Kennedy and Obama carried NC which is normally a Republican state (Obama in 2008) and it incited such hate. David first told me the Kennedy story when I was lamenting what my relatives were saying regarding Obama.

I've heard such statements made about Trump and I would never vote for him, even had a strong dislike for him starting many years ago, long before he ran for President, but I'm appalled when such dislike reaches levels of people wishing someone was dead. I've never felt hate to that level for any human being.

Up until 2008, I would have associated the hatred only with a small group of hillbillies in the NC mountains but then I saw it from relatives who I'd previously been close to. Today I see it every day from both sides of the political equation.

The answer we need isn't pledging allegiance of standing for the national anthem, but it's ridding ourselves of the hatred and ugliness. If you don't think it's pervasive, just talk to teachers about how it's permeated their schools.

We all need to watch the Mr. Rogers movie and learn from his approach.
 
Second grade sitting in the back seat of a friends car waiting for my sister at the end of the (catholic) school day. Felt like I'd been punched in the gut. Spent the weekend watching TV. My parents had to pry me away. It left a mark, I always remember the date with sadness.

Rob
 
It was a Saturday morning, dad was chatting with our next door neighbour over the fence and he came in and told my mother 'they have shot Kennedy'.

I wondered who Kennedy was and who 'they' were. As an eight year old living in a small Australian country town, my world view was limited to say the least.

However, watching my parents reaction I knew something important had happened.
 
While in high school, racing (Cruising Club of America handicap) on my Dad's sailboat on San Francisco Bay on the weekends..
 
Last edited:
In a Canadian Catholic school reading Nancy Drew books while teacher was well, teaching. All the girls were passing them around.
Principal comes in and says Kennedy was shot. We knew who Kennedy was, there was tears and sadness. We had the rest of the day off and those with a parent at home could go home. Remember the day like it was yesterday.
 
I had to think hard, of course I was living in Anchorage Alaska. I was 8 and the 6 year old neighbor boy from across the street was very upset. I understood what had happened but it had no impact...

What normal child back then cared about politics? It truly is a different world...
 
Actually, it's my first clear memory as a child. Sitting on the floor in the living room, playing with my little brother. i can remember the color of the carpet, the walls, and even the color of the console on the old black and white TV. At the time, I didn't understand everything that was happening on the TV broadcast but I knew it was really serious because my mom stopped washing dishes and just stood in the doorway, silently crying. I was four.
 
Back
Top Bottom