Wednesday, November 21, 2018

A Personal Story


November 22, 1963 is the day that President John F. Kennedy was killed in Dallas, TX.  It was a singular moment that sent shockwaves throughout the world.  I wasn't around just yet.  The event was repeated for me through history books and news accounts.

My elders, however, had been busy getting on with life in the early 1960s.  55 years ago, my mom & dad were out of high school, married and raising a daughter.  The construction of I-35 was close at hand, forcing my grandmother to move to a property along the Zacate Creek.

And my aunt would tie the knot on the very day that Kennedy was shot.  

The wedding ceremony was set to take place at San Luis Rey Church on that fateful Friday in November.  Kennedy was assassinated at 12:30 p.m.  Processing the tragic news that afternoon, my aunt and uncle discussed cancelling the wedding.  They considered a pause while taking in the compelling information that was trickling in at the time.  Somehow my tio convinced everyone to carry on with the day's events.

They would get married later that afternoon and follow the nuptial with a small reception at my grandmother's house on San Eduardo Ave.

I've talked about that day with my aunt, only scratching the surface in terms of details.  I'll try to put more pieces in place to complement this post.  It's certainly interesting to have such a personalized telling from those who lived through such momentous times.  

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