The Day John Kennedy Died

Listen while you read:  Lou Reed

I dreamed I was the President of the United States
I dreamed I replaced ignorance, stupidity, and hate
I dreamed the perfect union and a perfect law, undenied
And most of all, I dreamed I forgot the day John Kennedy died

I dreamed that I could do the job that others hadn't done
I dreamed that I was uncorrupt and fair to everyone
I dreamed I wasn't gross or base, a criminal on the take
And most of all, I dreamed I forgot the day John Kennedy died

Oh, the day John Kennedy died
Oh, the day John Kennedy died

I remember where I was that day; I was upstate in a bar
The team from the university was playing football on TV
Then the screen went dead and the announcer said
"There's been a tragedy. There are unconfirmed reports
The President's been shot and he may be dead or dying"

Talking stopped, someone shouted, "What?"
I ran out to the street. People were gathered everywhere
Saying, "Did you hear what they said on TV?"
And then a guy in a Porsche with his radio hit his horn
And told us the news. He said 
"The President's dead. He was shot twice in the head in Dallas
And they don't know by whom

I dreamed I was the President of the United States
I dreamed I was young and smart and it was not a waste
I dreamed that there was a point to life and to the human race
I dreamed that I could somehow comprehend that someone shot him in the face

Oh, the day John Kennedy died . . . 

~  Lou Reed

It was 54 years ago. And there are many of us (Baby Boomers) who will never forget where we were or what we were doing on that day. Lou Reed remembered. I find it interesting that Lou Reed died four years ago, one month before we marked the 50th anniversary of JFK's death. "The Day John Kennedy Died" is on 1982's The Blue Mask.

If you are of a certain age, you can tell your own story of when and where and how you heard the news. I suppose it is the equivalent of knowing where you were when you learned of the planes flying into the Twin Towers in NYC on September 11, 2001, something that my kids' generation will be remembering when they are old like me.

This is my story:

I attended a small elementary school in a rural community, one class per grade. It was Friday, which meant that the seventh and eighth grade girls had a combined health class while the boys had a study hall. So all the girls were in Mrs. Lawrence's room, watching a film called Growing Up and Liking It, a standard to teach us about getting our periods. (We all knew about it already, but oh, well.) It was after 2:00 p.m. when we eighth grade girls returned to our classroom to be greeted by the grim news. I can still recall grade school heart-throb Ford Margarum telling me, with a grin on his face, "The President's been shot." He was not grinning in any kind of glee. He was just being awkward and uncomfortable in delivering the news. Once we were all in the room, Mr. Sim explained to us what had happened. By then, JFK had already been pronounced dead. Shortly thereafter, we were sent home for the day. So much for growing up and liking it.

I was a very devout little Catholic back then. I believed in prayer back then. I was angry that our teachers had decided not to interrupt our Growing Up and Liking It film to inform us when my beloved President was shot. For years, I believed that if I had known, I could have prayed really hard, and he would have survived. (I do not hold the same belief about prayer these days.)

The next few days were spent glued to the television. Who can ever forget Jackie's blood-stained pink mohair suit and pillbox hat? Who can ever forget John Jr.'s salute as his father's caisson passed by? Who can forget the awkwardness of LBJ's oath as he became President? An entire nation grieved, mourned, questioned, and eventually, adjusted.

But back to Lou Reed. I dreamed that I was uncorrupt and fair to everyone. I dreamed I wasn't gross or base, a criminal on the take. I have one word: prescient.

So, let me ask you: where were you on November 22, 1963? I suspect most of you were not even born yet. Trust me on this: it was the end of the innocence. (But that's another song.)