My Dad was a minister at a small church at the time. About 10 years ago, my brother and I were off on a road trip and we just happened to drop by the church and wandered in the cemetery looking for people we remembered from back then. I found the grave of a man whose wife used to keep me sometimes. I remember very well when this gentleman passed, but I did not remember that he died on 11-22-1963. That made me kind of step back and think. A lot of exposure to death in a short period. I had just turned 7 five days before.
I had just turned 8 and in 2nd grade in Nichols Independent School.
I have no memories of the day - at all.
I remember being confused on Sunday when Oswald was killed. I was like, “Hey, if he killed the president shouldn’t we be glad he got what he deserved?” Childlike simplistic thinking but still sort of right. But also probably based on watching a few too many Westerns where the bad guy gets it in the end.
I did recently ask my older brother what he remembered. He would have been in 8th grade in the same school. He said one of the girl students had a transistor radio and told one of the teachers who doubted her. But eventually they had the janitor, who had a radio in his shop, listen and confirmed it.
He couldn’t remember if we got out early or not.
And like others of my age and maturity, I was very upset that there was NOTHING on TV for a long time, on every channel, just news coverage. I was CERTAIN at least the Beverly Hillbillies would be on - that was the most popular show at the time. But even that was pre-empted, of course.