Jan 6, 2011

Who were your grandparents?

This question was answered last year. But here is one of my history stories That I might have posted already but goes along with the death of my paternal grandmother when I was 10 years old.

President Kennedy's assassination

Nov 22, 1963 was a day that I would end up never forgetting. It was one of those days that in the years to come you would always be able to remember what you were doing, where you were doing it, and why you remembered it so well. I have had several of those years in my life and this particular one comes to mind now since it is Nov 20, 2005 when I am writing this and in two days we will remember as a country the day that John F Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, Texas.

I was in elementary school, 4^th Grade, and 10 years old. Mr. Leo Foy was my teacher and playing marbles was the highlight of our recess periods and lunch hours. We usually spent our recess in doors during this time of year due to the cold weather but that day we were outside. My school always made me think of the Texas Alamo even though I had never been there or visited it. The front had a part that was built like the front of the Alamo. Coming straight out from the front doors was a wide sidewalk that was level and had a couple of steps several feet apart that ended up making the sidewalk level with the street by the time it got to the street. My classroom was on the second story to the right of that built up part. We had to go up a lot of stairs as I remember to get to it. But at that age that was no problem since I was built to run so it seemed.

I had some real good friends and always played with them. Marbles was not always the choice of games because we would often play kickball or baseball. Other times we would play on the swing set, pumping as hard as we could until we several feet in the air and then bailing out to the ground below. It was a contest to see who could go the highest before bailing out. I think back on it now and wonder why we didn’t have numerous broken legs and arms from the activity. Then there were the days when we simply chased the girls for whatever reason but mainly because it was fun and some of them were really cute.

This particular day however I was content to play marbles on that huge sidewalk in the front of the building. It was our noon recess so we had a little extra time to play. I had my favorite taws just like everyone else but I don’t remember ever really playing marbles for keeps. It always seemed more fun just to see how many we could win and then give them back to each other at the end of the game. There were just two of us playing that day as I remember but I can’t remember who the other person was at the time. Someone came out of the front doors in a rush yelling to us to come inside because Pres Kennedy had been shot. I don’t remember any of the rest of the day but do have some memory of the funeral services a few days later.

It was ten years later, while serving as a missionary in Texas, that I had an opportunity to go to the place where it had all happened and to see where the motorcade had gone and where the rifle had been fired. There was a special exhibit in an old building that housed all of the information. I remember it being a somewhat dumpy part of Dallas and understand that in the years since my mission it has been cleaned up and made into a very beautiful memorial for JFK.

One month and four days later, the day after Christmas, Grandma Poulson passed away in our home after suffering for an extended period of time from the effects of a stroke. That is another story but part of that memorable holiday season of that year.