The oak leaves had turned brown and fallen to the ground while the maples held out for the first crisp fall New England wind to surrender to the inevitable. I thought to myself, 'we'll be raking them with Dad this weekend and jumping into piles of them' as I raced down Leary Drive headed for Lt Claire P Sullivan Elementary School with my sister lagging pitifully behind.
'Hurry up Jayne, or we'll be late again' I shouted, as I jumped the hedgerow bush that neatly trimmed the sidewalk leading into the school grounds. I hated being late and knew if I ran, I would be on time. My sister could find her way to class on her own I thought for a second, but then the reality of being the big brother kicked in and I stopped. Turning back, I shouted, 'C'mon slow poke I don't want to be late again'.
Finally, Jayne caught up with me, 'Race ya' I shouted as I once again sprinted away from her in the final dash to the schoolhouse doors. Naturally I beat her as I tagged the magical finish line door shouting 'Beat-cha!'
Greeting us at the door was my 1st Grade Teacher along with the principal, 'Good morning children'. Mrs. Goddeau greeted us as always with the prettiest of smiles. 'Good morning' I replied along with my sister as we both went inside from the cool crisp air, into the warmth and smell of a steam heated space, unique to New England and its public buildings. I remember the instant warmth felt good as I scurried into the hallway that led to the classrooms. Leaving my sister to find her way into her own classroom just inside the door. I quickly got rid of my windbreaker and hung it with the rest of the children's.
It was Science Day with our traveling Science Teacher, Ms. Bitesell, scheduled to bring us yet another discovery. She always showed up in our classrooms with the most amazing things, petrified trees and dinosaur footprints recovered from along the riverbed area. She was the prototypical 'hippie' of her day, along with her PhD in Marine Biology and traveled between the schools as our Science Teacher. As usual, the morning seemed to last forever, and we finally had lunch. After a quick game of 'red-light-green-light' on the playground, it was back to class and time for some science.
Today, Ms. Bitesell would bring in a stuffed beaver that a taxidermist had stuffed and mounted for her. I was amazed at the animal as I listened to how the beaver was still very active in the local mountain range, and she had found wonderful beaver ponds formed from dams the beaver had built in several locations along the Mt Tom range.
Just then, Mrs. Goddeau entered the classroom, stopped as she walked in, hesitated, then walked quickly over to Ms. Bitesell, and began whispering in her ear. As she spoke, our science teacher's eyes opened wide in shock and she gasped, 'Oh Dear God No!' Our teacher then turned to us and announced, 'Today class, an emergency has come up, and we're all going to go home early. Gather your things now and don't forget your jackets.'
'Bus students, the buses will be here shortly. Children walking home, form your lines and follow your street guards and please go straight home.'
It was then I began to notice the tears welling up in Mrs. Goddeau's eyes and began to notice all the other teachers, as they began to organize the hasty early dismissal all with a similar look of shock, disbelief and most of them also beginning to cry, but trying to hold it together for the sake of the children and maintaining order.
I didn't know what to make of it at the time and simply got into line and began to walk home with my sister and a few dozen other students headed back to The Village. We of course were happy, an extra 1/2 hour of playtime after school before supper would give us extra time for a good game of 'kick-the-can'.
As we came to the end of the sidewalk leading into Beaudoin Village, the now automatic 'Line Broke' was shouted out by the 6th grade street guard and we all once again broke the line and ran to our respective homes. Naturally the 'Line Broke' command acted as a starters gun in a race, and I once again began the dash home to beat my sister. I reached our front door and opened it with a shout that I quickly subsided, 'We're home... I stopped in the doorway sensing something wrong; My Mother was sitting on our couch crying. Just then, Jayne caught up and entered in the same excited then reserved then nervous manner. 'What's wrong Mommy?' as she ran to our mother's open arms. Just at that moment, a moment I will never forget, I looked into the corner of the living room, there on the black and white television, with the rabbit ears and the aluminum foil antenna, Walter Cronkite was announcing... "From Dallas Texas, the flash, apparently official, President Kennedy died at one PM Central Standard Time, two o'clock Eastern Standard Time, some thirty-eight minutes ago."
My Mother stood up and erupted in the most blood curdling scream I had ever heard from her... 'NOOOO!!!' NO NO NO...!' She screamed at the TV. As I stood there in the open doorway, I could hear the entire neighborhood give out the same terrifying scream in unison. Instantly the neighbors started to come out into the street. I watched as at least 5 different neighbors came outside in shock and disbelief. All asking each other, 'How, why, did you hear, is it true...?'
Just then, the phone rang, it was my grandmother. 'Mom, have you heard?' pause 'What happened?' 'OMG I don't know what to do, are you still coming by tomorrow?' 'Can you bring some quarters?' 'Thanks Mom, tell Dad I said I love him, I gotta go, Penny is walking up my sidewalk, see you tomorrow. Love you' She hung up as her friend Penny walked straight into the living room and they both simply stopped and looked each other staring in disbelief. 'My God Penny, what has happened?' 'I don't know Dottie; Phil thinks it's the Russians.' 'OMG not again, are we at war now or something?' My Mother responded. 'No, I don't think so, have you heard from Danny?' 'No not yet, he doesn't get off from the mill until 3:30.' 'What did your mom say?' 'She's coming by tomorrow and we're still baking. This is going to be the most horrible Thanksgiving ever.'