Yes, Dallas. Even sixty years later, that name brings sad memories to those who were watching television on November 22nd, 1963 and over the long weekend that followed.
From the moment we heard that shots had been fired at the President’s motorcade, then later heard Walter Cronkite’s announcement that the President was dead, we could not take our eyes off the screen.
Stunned, we watched over and over the motorcade turn into the Dealey Plaza ambush, the President be shot, Jackie reach for something, the limousine speed off to the hospital.
We watched the vigil outside the emergency room, we watched Air Force One’s return to Washington with the President’s body and the new President, we watched the thousands of mourners pass by the casket, we watched over and over Jack Ruby kill Oswald, we watched the funeral procession, we watched Jackie at the grave.
We had a Thanksgiving, winter came, we had a Christmas, then more winter.
Then, on February 9th, we watched a new band called the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan show.
Somehow, when we went to bed that night, we felt like everything was going to be all right.