Camelot

I noted in a previous post that 9/11 would echo in our minds like the Kennedy assassination does in our parents. In that vein my father wrote this email to me of the events in his life that day. I found them to be an interesting trip to the past, the day our president was killed.

Just So You Know
I awoke in the morning feeling comfortable enough to give a talk in Mr. Lowe's speech class that morning. It was about golf. I had made some fried eggs, and toast, as my mother had thought me to cook a bit. I drove off to school in her 1962 Buick Wildcat with white bucket seats and powder blue paint.
I remember the sun peaking through the clouds as I pulled into the Danville High School lot behind the shop classes off of Jackson Street. I had on a light Arnold Palmer Windbreaker jacket on, grey in color. I had a drafting class with Mr. Bud Logan, a family friend, at 9:00 AM
My next class was Mr. Lowe's comprehensive speech class at 10:00 am. I was not the first speaker. We as a class had to critique our classmates speech for some very clinical guidelines. I got out my spiral notebook and I leaned against the wall my Johnny Revolta 5 iron and Titlest bulls eye putter. They were my props. I remember being a little nervous, because I had given two speeches that semester, one on 'Banning Smoking in Public Places' and another on a trip I had made as an 8th grader to Arizona. Neither one being very profound. I remember Mr. Lowe's comments in a Senator Dirkson (IL) voice which was very deep and gravely with pauses between each syllable saying " Mr. Moore there are times when a cigarette could save your sanity. "
I remember being stunned at that comment, and probably blushing with confusion. Later we all found out why he said that to me. When all of us were playing with cap guns as a kid, and waiting for Santa Clause, Mr. Lowe had spent many a day in a fox hole in Korea.
My turn to speak.
"Mr. Moore , I believe it is you next."
As I approached the front of the class with my props, I began by introducing the game of golf, first with some history; and getting into my demonstration I climbed on top of Mr. Lowe's desk, with my shoes off of course. I glanced back with a quick look at my newest war hero. He had a head of very black hair, and it was combed like a man walking the floors of an insane institution, untamed cow licks all over. But he had a very seasoned face with at least 20 wrinkles per square inch.
He nodded, I proceeded. At one point, about 11:00 ish, I was in the top of my back swing talking about correct hand position documented from the book by Ben Hogan named, "The Five Lessons of Golf.” As I am coming down in slow motion with my right elbow snug against my right side, a knock came on the window of Mr. Lowe’s door, mimicking the sound of a percussionist on kettle drums. This not only angered me, but startled me and being in socks I struggled just to stay on the top of the desk.
Swinging the door open a redheaded student shouted, "The President has been shot!”
A blond girl Sarah, in the front row, very tall, stood up and asked, “Mary Miller ?",(our class president).
“No the President, President Kennedy!!”
Well my talk was over, and no more evaluation that day. We really didn't know what to do. No TV in any class rooms in those days.
We went to our American History Class, with Mrs. Wright, a very short, dark headed woman all business and very somber. She had the radio on and Walter Cronkite was on the air, just as he was on TV announcing the President had died at 11:52 Dallas time.
I distinctly remember one comment. A veteran Larry Sills blurted out, “Whoever shot him will never live to go to trial."
Class was then dismissed, and I was so angry, I started to walk down Fairchild past the Playboy barber shop, and Rex Wade had a small TV in his place just down from Nixon’s restaurant. I shoved open the door, and said, “What stupid MF shot our President?."
I later apologized to Rex, himself a Marine. I was glued to the TV through the reversed settled black stallion, those cadence drums were intoxicating.
Later, after the Dallas police had Lee Harvey Oswald, I witnessed Jack Ruby shoot him on live television, and then I remember thinking after much later seeing Zapruder film, how many, how many did it and why? We were all kind of naive then, the biggest deal was Sputnik and the hottest item was bomb shelters.
Yes, I had similar feelings talking with you on 9/11 Ryan, Praying to God that none of you were in the middle of some mayhem, ... malls, airports on that September morning. It was pulling at our very sanity in November1963, just like Sept 11th 2001 did all over again, for all of us.
Then for our family came your second son, a gift just 3 days later.
Lastly I printed your article and put it under the American Flag you had sent to me on the waiting room wall.
Love Dad.

P.S. Without really realizing it I walked home that afternoon, Mom said , “Butch where is our car? You didn't wreck it did you?” I said, “I'll go get it”, and I walked back to the school at 10PM that same November night.