Quote:
Originally Posted by Simon
I was sitting in the 3rd grade classroom of the parochial school I attended. There was a hushed conversation between some nuns (of the above) at the door to the room, and then we were told that the President was dead and that we should put our heads down on our desks for awhile. They let us out early that afternoon, which usually would have meant fun on a Friday, but no one seemed to be in the mood for playing that day. I doubt any of us understood what had happened, since nothing had been explained to us, but somehow the weight of the situation had been conveyed to us.
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mine is similar -- only i was in public school in Ybor City the latin area of Tampa. 3rd grade. They let us out early. I had no clue to who he was because we had been living out of the country from 1959 until Oct of 1963. My 1st month in public american school and wow a holiday. Of course once I got home and saw the TV i realized who it was.