Like millions of other Americans, I still remember that awful Friday. I was so upset by the death of my President that I went home from school early that day. The following week I had to make-up the American history test I had missed that afternoon.
Even before his election, I remember watching the series of Nixon-Kennedy televised debates, sitting next to my father on the living room sofa. I had never heard anyone speak the way Kennedy did, saying "vigah" instead of "vigor," with no "r" at the end.
I remember watching his Inauguration on TV with my grade class. And, of course, I remember Robert Frost reciting his poem, which he could barely read because the sun was so bright that day. And I remember standing outside for hours waiting to see JFK in-person as his presidential motorcade drove along El Cajon Blvd. in San Diego, in June of 1963. I waved when he rode by.
I think Kennedy was the only president I ever loved, the way a boy can love and admire a hero. . . May his memory be a blessing.