It Was the End of the World For Me
And the beginning of the end of my innocence
It was the first time the notion of life being a finite state ever occurred to me. I was in kindergarten. At the age of five, life barely begins. There’s no reason to concern ourselves with the concept of death unless it touches us closely and smacks us in the face. This death seemed to slap the whole world in the face — at least, my world as I knew it.
This wasn’t like a family member died, but it was the first time I saw everyone around me jolted by a death. Everyone was sad, crying, or in some other place for days. Some were pensive and withdrawn. I recall balled-up, dampened handkerchiefs in their hands. Women dabbing at their eyes.
Maybe because this death was somebody important; perhaps it was how the person died. He was shot, they said. I still was not sure what it meant — to be shot. All I remember is everyone saying President Kennedy was shot.
I knew who President Kennedy was. His picture was everywhere, and he was always on our TV. Kennedy was the most powerful man in the world. He was in charge of everything. He was a good man, or so everyone was saying. That’s why they are crying. Who shoots good men?
So that’s how you die? Does somebody have to shoot you? I never thought about it before…
