That's where I was at about 1:30 p.m., on Friday, November 22, 1963, when Kennedy's assassination was confirmed. It was confirmed because two secret-service agents burst into our class and whisked the US ambassador's daughter away in a split second. She had been a friend of mine. We were both 16.
Mrs. Todd, my grade 12 algebra teacher at Lisgar Collegiate Institute in Ottawa, broke into tears, but after composing herself, continued with the lesson. We were all dumbfounded and very confused. I don`t think it hit me until I came home and saw that my parents had moved the TV into the dining room so we could watch it around the clock. I had to babysit that evening and went, as usual. But I remember it was cold and raining and the entire weekend was sad, sad, sad.
Life changed after that split second. Innocence disappeared. The bright light dimmed. We all know now that Kennedy had feet of clay, but for some reason he held us. Pierre Trudeau held us in the same way. What was it? The Royal Jelly, period, the end.
I hope we all take a minute this Friday, November 22nd, to remember. It's another "Friday", how ironic.
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