By Frank Gormlie
Fifty years ago this Friday, the 22nd of November, I walked out of my English class at Point Loma High School and full of disgust threw my brown bag full of lunch away in a trash can. I felt sick to my stomach and couldn’t bare to think ab0ut eating – we had just heard that the President had been shot by someone from an overpass while he was riding in a motorcade in Dallas, Texas.
Classes were cancelled and we all went home, most of us saddened and confused. I remember very vividly sitting in our Point Loma home watching the news that Sunday, the 24th with my dad. It was almost all we did that weekend – watch the news on our black and whites, fiddling with the rabbit ears or electrically moving the antenna on the roof.
We had heard that the assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald, was going to be moved and all the news cameras were there to broadcast the live event. The nation was riveted on the tube – and I know my father and I sure were.
“Here comes Oswald!” someone shouted, cameras rolling, and there he was – evil incarnate – his arms gripped by big guys in suits – on live TV – being brought out from some back office into full view of millions of Americans.
We all now know what happened next – we’ve seen it a dozen replays since. But on that Sunday, before Jack Ruby rushes out from the crowd, it was just a few days from Thanksgiving; yes, we had lost Kennedy but the killer was in custody and the nation would get to the bottom of this dreadful and tragic act. We had a new president and everything would get back to normal after Kennedy’s funeral – which was the next day. [Read more…]











