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I remember when JFK was elected — Mom cried her eyes out for hours.

I remember when JFK was shot. We were in high school study hall and the announcement came over the intercom calling it a “tragedy”. The guy next to me said, “The only tragedy is that he isn’t dead.” (Turns out, he was.)

I remember that Thanksgiving weekend at Grandpa’s farm where the family gathered for holidays. We watched the JFK-related stuff on TV, complete with funny, but not-too-delicate, commentary from Grandpa.

“Venereal disease infested reprobate.” Yes; he was a disgusting human being. One of the Kennedy maids attended my uncle’s church so we knew stuff about the family that wasn’t “out there”. (Jackie was no saint, either.)

For myself, I cried when Andrew Breitbart, Ronald Reagan, and Karen Carpenter died.