Shortly after noon on November 22, 1963, President John F. Kennedy was assassinated as he rode in a motorcade through Dealey Plaza in downtown Dallas, Texas. He was the last great President of the United States.
I was 19 years old, in the U.S. Navy and stationed in Rota, Spain working at the military base radio station as a DJ. When we received the news, it was chaos. The base was put on high alert and all personnel of the base were recalled immediately. Everyone was in shock. For the next week and even after the funeral the sadness of losing him was felt by everyone. Even now, 54 years later, that day is very clear in my mind so I wrote about it today.
Krótko po południu 22 listopada 1963 r. Prezydent John F. Kennedy został zamordowany, jadąc samochodem przez Dealey Plaza w centrum Dallas w Teksasie. Był ostatnim wielkim prezydentem Stanów Zjednoczonych.
Miałem 19 lat, byłem w amerykańskiej marynarce wojennej i stacjonowałem w Rota w Hiszpanii pracując w radiowej bazie wojskowej jako DJ. Kiedy otrzymaliśmy wiadomość, pojawił się chaos. Baza została postawiona w stan najwyższej gotowości i wszyscy pracownicy bazy zostali natychmiast odwołani. Wszyscy byli w szoku. Przez następny tydzień, a nawet po pogrzebie, wszyscy odczuwali smutek z powodu straty. Nawet teraz, 54 lata później, ten dzień pojawia się wyraźnie w mojej pamięci, dlatego dzisiaj o tym napisałem.
1 comment:
I don't think there's an American who was alive at the time of Kennedy's assassination who doesn't remember the shock of hearing about it. I was in junior high in an afternoon class when the announcement came over the speaker. School ended early that day and everyone was so quiet.
I remember entering my house after the school bus had dropped me off at home... looking for my mother... and was surprised to find her in bed, inconsolable. I rarely saw her upset or cry. That more than anything awakened me to the gravity of the situation.
It took me decades to realize the fears my mother had had that day. She and my father had been slave laborers in Germany during WWII. They'd been rounded up from separate villages when they were only 15/16. They grew up under Nazi oppression and a daily fear for their lives for over four years.
My mother feared that the life we enjoyed in America had come to an end... and that she would be facing another immersion into an oppressive occupation. All these years later, it still saddens me greatly to remember those times and the devastating effect it had on our innocence and the loss of our peace of mind.
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