On November 24, 1963, Lee Harvey Oswald, the man accused of assassinating President John F. Kennedy, is fatally shot.
The event was witnessed by thousands who tuned in to Oswald’s televised departure from Dallas police headquarters. His killer, Jack Ruby, was charged with first-degree murder and sentenced to death. In 1966, the decision was reversed, and Ruby died of lung cancer before he could be retried.
Find more about Kennedy’s assassination and the history surrounding it with a search on Newspapers.com.
I remember that week like it was yesterday. From coming in to the school at lunchtime at the sound of bell in the bell tower and seeing the teachers crying. To the ramblings of the older students on the school bus spreading false rumors of machine guns being used.
At home I found my mom very upset at the constant news coming from the only television station we could get with our tv tower. I remember her saying after they caught Oswald, “They should put him in the back of a convertible and drive the same route for weeks after telling him that his time is coming.”
I watched as Oswald was shot by Jack Ruby in that hallway. It was a surreal experience for America. We did not have school on Monday the day of the funeral. We watched it in black and white as the caisson with the Presidents flag draped casket was led down a street by a horse that had boots pointing backwards in the stirrups. How strange I thought as a nine year old.
On Tuesday when we came back to school I and a girl class mate tried to mimic the Catholic priest’s chants. We did it in the entrance to what was known as the bus room at our school. It echoed like a bathroom. We kept singing, “I can sing better than you can.” Yes, the memories from that tumultuous time are like a scroll that opens every time I see the story.