I was 4 when JFK was killed. My mom, a staunch Republican and Kennedy-hater, thought everybody was making too big a deal of it. I remember thinking my sweet mommy could be a heartless bitch at times.
The deaths of Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King are closely tied in my memory. I remember thinking that being famous was dangerous stuff. Again I was struck by the callousness of many people.
I remember the walk on the moon and thinking that the adults really thought it was a big deal. Having a weak grasp of physics, I thought of the moon trip as only mildly more impressive than, say, climbing Mt. Everest.
I was 17 and weeding my grandmother’s garden when my mom came out and told me Elvis had died. My exact reaction was: “So?” All I cared about was getting the weeding over with. What a smartass little shit I was! I’ve since grown to appreciate Elvis greatly.
When John Lennon was killed, I was the one who told my best friend. He burst into tears and cried harder than I’ve ever seen a man cry before or since. That is the most intense memory of them all.
The most memorable/ important:
Challenger Explosion: I was in the fourth grade. It was during math class.
Fall of the Wall: In the hospital. Even though it had been coming for a long time, I was really shocked to actually see the headlines.
Best story:
The OJ Verdict: In the dentist’s chair, wishing like all get-out that he wasn’t listening to the reading of the verdict with that drill in his hand.
Challenger: Russian class, freshman year of college. The instructor said, “The shuttle blew up,” and at first I thought he meant the University shuttle that went around to the various campuses.
Berlin Wall: In line at the toll plaza at the Delaware Water Gap. OK, not very exciting.
Princess Di: Standing in the front hall of my apartment, early Sunday morning, from the front page of the paper. I hadn’t heard the news the night before, so it was a complete shock. There was a big (Pittsburgh) Steelers game scheduled that day, so I had been expecting some “Go Steelers!”-type headline on the front page, not “Princess Diana Dead in Car Crash”. My first thought was that it was some kind of sick joke, and I actually looked for the real front page of the paper before I was able to convince myself that it was true.
I don’t handle shocks well before I’ve had my coffee in the morning.
Never attribute to malice anything that can be attributed to stupidity.
– Unknown
Challenger: Watching the launch live on television. I was about 7 years old. After the shuttle exploded I just sat there, staring. Finally I got up, went into the kitchen, and told my mother that “the shuttle blew up.”
Oklahoma City: Geography class in high school. I walk in and the room television is on with everyone standing around glued to the screen. The first thing I saw was a helicopter shot of the building.
– Sylence
And now, for my next trick, I will talk in spooky half-references.
Elvis - I was at home and called my mom, who didn’t believe me. She was one step away from being an Elvis stalker and needless to say, was quite upset.
Challenger - I was in a philosphy & ethics course when the professor announced it. He canceled class.
OJ Verdict - my daughter was in the hospital for a chronic kidney problem. They announced the verdict, and most people just sat there stunned. Then a black woman employee went running down the hall hooting and hollering and celebrating very loudly. I remember thinking how inappropriate it was to be acting like that when people were worried about important things like their children dying.
Princess Di - I was on Lake Cumberland, Kentucky. Too young.
JFK, Jr. - in a hotel room in Nashville, TN. He died the same day my friend Larry died of Hodgkins disease. Larry had a very dry sense of humor. I remember laughing, trying to imagine Larry’s face when he turned around in line at the pearly gates only to see JFK, Jr. And how he’d say that it was just HIS luck to be overshadowed by one of the biggest hunks in America.
Okay, here’s my Challenger story. I was in tenth grade at the time, and living in Joliet, Illinois. You may remember that the Chicago Bears went all the way that year (86). We had been getting a lot of hype about the team, and even had an assembly honoring them, just before the Super Bowl. I thought it was a bit odd for a high school to have a pep rally for a pro team, but it was fun, and my parents’ Super Bowl party was a trip. Now, we were fully aware that Challenger was going to be launched, but we sure didn’t have a pep rally for the crew. The day of the launch came without fanfare, and around lunchtime, the principal announced over the PA system that the shuttle had exploded with no survivors. Cut to last period. The teacher spent the first fifteen minutes ranting. It hadn’t occurred to me, or, I imagine, the other students, that this was anything to be angry about, but he had a real hair up his ass. He went on about how everyone should be ashamed because we had been cheering and dancing around about a football team and meanwhile, no one had been supporting the shuttle launch. Now, granted, I can understand why he was upset; the first teacher in space and all that, so he must have felt the way cops feel when an officer is killed. But his reasoning was rather skewed; the explosion wasn’t caused by lack of hype! It was like the scene in River’s Edge where the teacher is yelling at everyone and telling them that if they really cared about the dead girl, they’d form a lynch mob. Teachers have a forum, and sometimes they abuse it.
That said, was anyone watching the live broadcast of the launch? I know some schools, in addition to the one Ms. Macauliffe taught at, brought in TVs so the students could watch live. In fact, I once saw footage of her students watching the launch; the progress of their facial expressions is heartbreaking. (See, Mr. T.; I do care!)
Remember, I’m pulling for you; we’re all in this together.
—Red Green
