This is the youthful cohort I shared November 22, 1963 with. We had the drill down for incoming nuclear missiles. Get under your desk. But, there was no preparation for fourth graders at Schuster Elementary School in El Paso, Texas that day for the assassination of John F. Kennedy.

We were informed and released. I remember walking the block and a half to my home. My uncertainty turned to grief , as I interpreted, embraced, and shared Mom’s mourning.

On Monday, November 25th, I would mark my birthday, watching on a black and white TV, a caisson, a rider-less horse and a final ceremony at Arlington National Cemetery.

Eleven years later, I visited his gravesite and would take part in many final ceremonies at Arlington National Cemetery, as a member of a casket bearer team with the 3rd Infantry, Company E, Honor Guard.

There are waypoints in our lives that we will never forget. In this remembrance, I am struck as to how young we were, facing shared national grief, which in a way prepared us for the turmoil of the Vietnam War and all that followed then and now.