I was in the first grade; I can still identify the seat and row I was sitting in. Our teacher, Sister Paul told us to all pray, our president was shot. At 6 years old it was a hard concept to understand. We were all dismissed, I remember my mother coming to get me and my sister, she was crying and I knew it was significant. My family with neighbors watched it around the clock on TV. After five days, I asked my mother "will cartoons ever be back on TV again"? Where were you?
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I was 5 years old in the back seat of my car, coming home from the hospital (I was having my tonsils out the next day). The news came over the radio and my mom's hands flew off the steering wheel.
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