Story of JFK told to next generation

On Nov. 22, 1963, I was in first grade attending Bateman Elementary School in Chicago. I had gone to the White House six months earlier on a tour with my family. As a little boy who was the same age as the Kennedy children, I was amazed at the enormity of the structure, and we knew who the Kennedys were.

On that fateful day in the early afternoon, our principal announced President Kennedy had been shot and we were to go home. Being so young, I was confused. I picked up my brother from kindergarten and we walked home. When we got there, mom had the black and white TV on, and we watched the events that day and over the next few days. I remember all of us being stunned by what happened. First the president was assassinated, then Oswald was caught, interviewed and killed.

The president’s casket in the capitol and his grief-stricken family in shock will forever be etched in my mind. Fifty years later, I remember those feelings. I still feel very sad for that family and have admired how they always held tightly together in times of crisis and loss.

I believe there was more to this than one person, but on this day I will pause, reflect and remember. Anyone who was around that day will too. Years later with my family, we visited his grave at Arlington National Cemetery, as well as those of his brothers, wife, and son. We retold the story to our sons. It will be a story told again on this day. What should be debated is not the greatness of the man but rather the ultimate sacrifice he gave as our commander in chief. I hope the search for the truth continues. I still feel the loss.

Ed Jacobi

Palatine