Where were you and what were you doing, when President Kennedy was assassinated?

I was not yet even a gleam in my father’s eye.

Ica, I knew this was coming. Did your parents tell you anything of their situation, when President Kennedy was shot?

5th grade art class. I was more freaked out by the freakitude of the grownups than the event itself.

no, but maybe i’ll ask.

Was not born and my mam was only an infant but my Grandfather was making black pudding (pig blood sausage) while he heard it on the wireless, in Ireland. Think he told me it was around lunchtime here when he heard it.

I was only 3 years old, but, I remember hearing/seeing the broadcasts and my parents in an uproar of grief.

In 10th grade Spanish class with Mrs Rosario who, even under the best of circumstances, tended to let her emotions show. It is odd but I can’t recall what happened after we heard the news. I believe we were let out of school early, but I am not sure. I remember thinking that people were over-reacting.

Not born yet. :-)

My parents didn’t tell me anything particular about the assassination, but they have very significant memories of the Cuban Missile Crisis. My dad remembers being afraid the nukes would go off any second, and has good memories of Kennedy handling the situation.

I was not born but my Grandma told me that she was baking bread and it felt like time stopped.

I heard the news he’d been shot on the radio during a college music class in the Bronx. I was working at the New York Herald Tribune nights as a copyboy and knew the paper would be a madhouse, so I immediately left school and took the subway to Manhattan, a 30-minute or so ride. I remember thinking, as I scanned faces around me, that I might be the only person who knew the President had been shot. When I arrived at the paper, three hours before my usual starting time, the cityroom was filled with workers from each department (city, national international, business, sports) gearing up to cover the story. The long night is a blur in my memory, but one thing I’ll never forget: I was the copyboy who pulled the bulletin off the ding-ding-dinging UPI and AP wire machines that reported Kennedy was dead.

I was in the 6th grade, and we were just about to break for lunch. I remember the announcement on the PA system and how sad everyone seemed. School was dismissed early, and I went to my grandparents house. I was riveted to the television for the days that followed.

It was the day the music died. Then there were a few other days like that – and of course 1959 when the music really died.

I was, in all likely hood, having my diaper changed (I was around a year and a half old at the time)

I was a freshman in high school. I was in Latin class. The teacher, Mrs. Selter, was called out into the hallway. She came back in tears, and could barely compose herself well enough to give us the news.

I was 8 years old in 3rd grade at St Gregory the Great School in Harrison NY.Our weekly gym class was to start at 1:45. We all gathered in the gym, but Coach was not there. He came in about 15 minutes late, crying and just repeating to himself, “Oh my god, how awful”. He left again, and then came back in, and said, “The President’s been shot. A few minutes later, the Principal came on the intercoms and said the President was dead. She led us in prayer, and told us school was dismissed.

My older brother got home before me, and told my mom the president had been shot. She told him “that’s not funny, don’t joke that way.” He had her turn on the TV to Walter Cronkite.

The following Monday, there was no school, but we were all to attend a memorial Mass. During the Mass it started to snow, first snowfall of the season.

I was in utero, floating around, busy multiplying my cells.

My middle sister, however, was on her eighth grade class trip to Washington, DC and was there for the funeral. It’s something that she will always remember.

I was at a 1-month-old pediatric checkup.

Not only was I non-existent, my parents were barely four months old!

I was on my way to 8th grade Typing class. In the stairwell some kid said the president had been shot, & everybody assumed he was joking around. When we got to class the teacher had the radio on & some kids were crying.