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Dark Day

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Forty five years ago this afternoon, I was nearing the end of a day of classes in the 5th grade at Limerick Elementary School in Pennsylvania. Mrs. Bean, one of my favorite teachers throughout all my schooling even up through college, was called to the door, where an aide from the school office engaged her for a moment in hushed conversation. To this day, it impulsively chokes me to the verge of tears recalling the image of how Mrs. Bean looked instantly deflated and gray, as though she had been punched. She did pass the news to her classroom in a very brief, hollow-voiced statement as we cleared out early to our buses. Even at the age of 10, I didn’t really understand what it meant that our president had been killed, except how Mrs. Bean’s own very obvious shock felt so contagious, blanketing all the students and teachers and bus drivers in a deep quiet fog.

Our family had gone for years without TV, but two days later we did visit my grandparents to watch the following solemn procession –

bumper sticker [] - DRAM

Written by macheide

22 November 2008 at 12:30 pm

Posted in DRAM


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