Day to celebrate turned to day of mourning

On Nov. 22, 1963, I was a college sophomore and postulant studying to be a School Sister of Notre Dame at the motherhouse in Mequon, Wis. It was the feast day of Saint Cecilia, and after lunch I joined a few of my classmates to bring cards and greetings to Sister Ann Celine, our choir director, in celebration of her patron saint’s day.

While in her music studio room, one of the more advanced Junior Sisters rushed in to tell us President Kennedy had been shot. Sister Ann Celine led us in a quick prayer for his recovery. We left in a state of shock to attend our 1 p.m. classes. In the middle of my philosophy class, an announcement came over the loudspeaker that President Kennedy had indeed died. Classes were canceled, and we went to our chapel for communal prayers and Holy Mass.

Even though as postulants we rarely watched TV, for the next three days until the Monday funeral the 20-inch TV in our recreation room was kept on as we all sat mesmerized by the tragic events flowing nonstop on the screen. I remember wishing I could be with my family back home in Chicago to share my sadness, but we 35 postulants shared our feelings with one another as we mourned the president’s death together. This tragic event cemented our relationship as a tiny community of nuns-in-training, and to this day I can still recall the deep sadness and disbelief we all experienced.

Angela Cygnar

Des Plaines