November 22

Reading the morning Baltimore Sun, usually online, is what I do when eating breakfast. It’s a bad habit, begun in third grade, when every morning, I could barely “scarf down” a bowl of dry Rice Krispies. My mother put up with my antics of nausea and anxiety, over what I do not recall. Perhaps it was just a “phase.” Allowing me to read the comics at the breakfast table wasn’t polite. But this helped get a few calories of cereal into my stomach before school.

Today was like any other day; I read the paper while eating cereal. Then, I gasped. There it was in black and white. The column was entitled “This day in history—November 22,” the anniversary of John F. Kennedy’s assassination. How could I have forgotten?

Though this tragic event happened 51 years ago, I remember it well. My friends and I were fifth graders at Bais Yaakov School for Girls. Mrs. Buckman, an unusually buxom woman, was our teacher. The announcement came over the PA system. She gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth in disbelief. I don’t remember what she said to us or what happened next. We were probably dismissed early.

Like most schools across the country, Bais Yaakov was closed for several days while the country mourned. I remember:

• the black-and-white television on for many hours
• photos of Jacquie Kennedy on the plane with Lyndon Johnson as he was sworn in as our next president
• Jack Ruby killing Lee Harvey Oswald
• the voice of Walter Cronkite
• three-year-old JFK Jr. saluting his father’s casket during the funeral procession.

Did we ever return to normal? Regrettably, I think not. The next few years were tumultuous, and sadly, violence and assassination became, and still are, part of our culture. Baby Boomers grew up with the volatile 60s, Vietnam, a classmate’s MIA brother, Black Panthers, Students for a Democratic Society, the Jewish Defense League, whiffs of tear gas on college campuses, 9/11 and too many more to list.

And the madness continues. Our new norm consists of mass shootings, car jackings by 14-year-olds, gangs, drug cartels, road rage and disrespect for one another.

As I reach the “golden years,” I wonder what the world will be like for the upcoming generations. Will my grandchildren continue living in a chaotic world? Will there be a nuclear war? More world-wide pandemics? Be victims of violence?

Will they have their own November 22 to remember?

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Read more by Eileen Creeger.