Carroll Case (a renowned Mississippi artist & author) posted a request on Facebook for people's memories of the day President Kennedy was assassinated.
"I am working on a project and need your help. PLEASE send me an e-mail at carrollcaseart@gmail.com and tell me where you were when you heard about the assassination of President Kennedy. If you were not born before 1963, please relate what your parents told you about where they were. Thanks!"
Since this year is the 50th Anniversary of the assassination I thought he might be putting a book together with some people's stories and his illustrations. After sending my story he posted:
"OK so your wondering why I wanted your Kennedy memories.....let me just say this Mark your calendar for November 22 Friday 7pm at the store front theatre , State street, mcComb ms. For an event you will not soon forget. Lots more info to follow.....cc"
I can't imagine what he is up to but I am going to try to travel to McComb that evening to see!
Here's my entry...
I was in the sixth grade in Magnolia (Mississippi) Elementary School, Mrs. Richmond’s class. Before school started that year I had pleaded with my Mother to get me transferred to Mrs. Lampton’s class because she seemed like more fun; but for some strange reason my Mother didn’t find my desire for “fun” a compelling enough reason to buck the school’s assignment process. Even when I told Mother that Mrs. Lampton let her class listen to the radio every day for an hour instead of doing “boring ole school work” she was singularly unmoved. So I was sentenced to sweat out the toughest teacher in the elementary school.
That day probably would have blended in with all the rest but Mrs. Lampton appeared at the door to our room crying and motioning Mrs. Richmond to come to the hallway. She wasn’t sobbing or making a big scene but tears were flowing from her eyes and being quickly absorbed by a little embroidered handkerchief that matched ones all the other teachers carried in those days. She was clearly very upset. Word spread quickly from the kid closest to the door that Mrs. Lampton was really sobbing while talking to Mrs. Richmond and we all began to speculate what had happened. I had never even thought teachers had emotions like that – teachers were supposed to be in control of themselves and of us. If Mrs. Lampton could lose control, chaos could not be far behind.
After a short period Mrs. Richmond came back into the room with her usual stern, no-nonsense grimace and before she reached the front of the room kids started asking, “Mrs. Richmond, what’s wrong with Mrs. Lampton?” “Is Mrs. Lampton okay?” The questions seemed to annoy her but she didn’t correct anyone for shouting out and not raising their hand so we knew this was something way out of the ordinary. When she reached the front of the room she said, “the President’s been shot, now open your books to page…” There was an outcry in the room that included almost every emotion including joy, two kids clapped in approval but most of us were stunned into silence. Mrs. Richmond softened only a tiny bit and said, “They were listening to the radio” (we knew she didn’t approve of this frivolousness) “and they broke in with a news bulletin that President Kennedy had been shot in Texas. That’s all they know now and there isn’t anything that we can do, so let’s get back into our work for today…” and then as an after-thought she added, “they are going to keep listening and you can ask them all about it at the next recess.”
I have no idea what lessons we went back to, not clear if it was Math, Science or English but every break we grabbed kids from Mrs. Lampton’s class to get details. I remember bizarre bits of information from that day – “lone gunman,” “shooter was eating before he shot,” “the assassin had escaped,” “it was probably the Soviets,” “the President is dead,” “the new President is from Texas.”
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