November 22, 1963, by Louise Horvath

From MemoryArchive

Who: Louise Horvath
What: John F. Kennedy's Assasination
When: November 22, 1963
Where: Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

For a thirteen-year-old, life can be somewhat predictable, fun and secure. For me at that age, especially since it was the early 60's, life was all of those things. On November 22, 1963, I airily and confidently boarded my school bus for 9th grade at a local girls' Catholic high school, where I would soon be participating in an assembly that morning,for which I and my friends had practiced for weeks--a "hootenanny", which was organized folk singing with Bob Dylan lyrics and Joan Baez harmonies.

We Looked the part as well, with folkie shirts and blue jean skirts with flowered belts. Right in the middle of "Michael, Row the Boat Ashore," an announcement came over the loud speaker with a crackly, very audible tone that President Kennedy had been shot and that we were to return to homeroom.

The rest of that day was a blur, as we heard continuing sad news over the speaker and began to try to comprehend this shocking news that ended our innocence that day in ways we would not comprehend for many years. I remember the silent bus ride home right at about 1 PM, and the long hours glued to the television with my family. My father returned home from his physician duties early as well --a sure sign that things were "not at all normal," and we collectively grieved in a way that resembled a family death. My mother and grandmother cried for hours on end and seemed to feel Jackie Kennedy's pain in the most sincere way, as well as that of her bewildered children. Everywhere seemed quiet in the streets as many families repeated our ritual. This was not long after the Cuban missile crisis and days when we had hidden under our desks and blackened the windows at our Catholic elementary school, so there was also an element of fear in the air that a true enemy to our way of life had caused this to happen.

That was on a Friday, I believe, and I remember the weekend that followed to be more of the same as we all slowly adapted to the new truth in our lives--that even a "King Arthur" type individual, who seemed to have lived such a magical life--was subject to the pull of fate.

I've never forgotten that moment in my life when my gleeful, wide-eyed, and incredibly serene teenage life changed so quickly.