One of those moments where time stood still and we remember forever.

Everything you said above is so true. It seems from that time to now, change has been much more rapid in every way (some good but IMHO more changes have been negative) than I think any of us would have ever dreamed.

Do you remember where you were and what you were doing when this was announced over the airwaves? I do just as though it was yesterday. The only thing I don't remember is exactly what outfit I was wearing.

Mary

I was only about 5 years old. But what I remember most was a picture that my mom cut out of the paper and hung on the office wall. It was a simple line drawing of the statue of Lincoln, seated in that huge stone chair, leaning his face in his hands and weeping. That picture stayed on the wall for decades. I dearly wish I could have a copy of it. I will always see that picture in my mind when this date is mentioned.
Not so many years later, I sat with my mom in the car, and on the radio we heard the tail end of a bulletin about Wallace, ambulances and hospitals. Without knowing what happened, my little self said, "I'll bet he was shot." Mom was horrified, as shooting was the first thing that popped into my mind, as the normal bad news of major politicians and tragedy. Her tears were less for Wallace, and more for the ease with which I provided an explanation. By the time I was a teenager, we'd lost MLK and Bobby the same way.
Around here, Nov. 4 is the "do you remember where you were" day, as we lost Rabin the same way; like the U.S., a new era of despair. We now use the day annually in schools to discuss democracy, pluralism and diversity of opinion, but as you can probably tell, it doesn't do us much good.
Peace, Batya

911 is the closest I get to understanding the feeling which y'all are describing (I wasn't alive then). It was an awful day that marred us forever. Too bad I didn't get to live through the innocent times.

Here is a link that might be useful: It's small, but here you go Batya

I remember the whole day. I was taking mum on a much-looked forward to vacation; we were in the Blue Ridge mountains and I had just pulled into a gravel parking lot for a Mom&Pop dinner to get mum some coffee. The owners were watching the parade on a small B&W TV and chatting about what colors Jackie might be wearing (remember the to-do about her pink & yellow outfit?) when they suddenly went open-mouthed silent and then began saying 'did you see that?' "I don't believe it," and it took me a couple minutes to find out what happened. The gentleman owner went out to my car and picked up and carried mum in so she could see the TV (she was wheelchair-bound). The five-minute stop for coffee turned into a 2 hour visit.

And yes, I remember what each of us was wearing, which shows that some of the most insignificant information can become indelible.

I was serving a late supper (8 hours time difference) and was walking out of the kitchen when I heared it on AFN. My lasagne went one way and I the other, told my husband and ran for the TV (German only, no American TV at that time).
A couple of hours later, after my husband was called back on duty, major allert, I scraped the lasagna of the wall and floor, gathered up the glas pieces and washed the floor.

On the steps to the second floor at Jr. high school, an old brick building, it was announced over the speakers and every one froze in place. Classes were dismissed and the rest of the day was a bad dream watching news on TV at home.

I remember that day. It was such a normal day. I had put my baby boy down for a nap. A neighbor knocked on the back door and asked if I was watching TV, and I said no. She started crying and said that she had seen on TV that Kennedy was shot. I turned the TV on and everything changed that day.

I was watching my friend's daughter, seven year old Debbie, who had leukemia and spent the morning with me to give her Mom some down time. Debbie was installed in front of the TV watching some kiddie program - I was in the bedroom, changing sheets. Debbie came into the room and very quietly said "the President has been shot and killed" and I told her not to make stuff up, but she insisted, so I went to look at the TV and we both cried.
Debbie passed away on December 9 that year.