amancalledpony's blog post - Part 2 of Fridays blog.

This blog is really more for me.

My dad would hear the eagle scream every Friday. He would get off work, stop home to pick me up; we would then go to the bank so he could cash his check. That Friday it was planned that we take mom alone so we could go out to eat dinner. This was something we did once a month or so. Fast food was mostly in the future in 1963 so eating out was special. But that Friday we passed. I don’t know if most places were closed or what. But dad promised we would eat out Sunday. Mom was happy since she wouldn’t need to make two big meals Thanksgiving week.
If you asked me what I ate last Monday there is no way I could tell you. But I remember what I ate November 24, 1963. We were at what could best be called a roadhouse. At one point it had been a truck stop on the Dixie Hiway. There was a TV in the corner above the room. It was turned on to the news of the day. I liked this place to eat because they put extra parsley on the plates. Yea I loved parsley as a kid. The rest of my meal was Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes and cole slaw. I was in the middle of chowing down when the entire restaurant looked at the TV. My dad made a remark to us about that’s the guy. The room was absolutely silent as everyone watched Oswald walking with his hands kind of crossed. To this day I think it strange he had a sweater on. Plainclothes cops were all around him. Then some guy kind of shoving people and a shot. Then all hell broke loose. It is quite unusual to see someone shot while eating dinner. My mom and dad pretty much didn’t finish eating. They, like most in the place, elected to get a takeout box. I on the other hand did finish. I guess the impact to a third grader is less than for an adult.
I don’t know why but I remember only bits and pieces of the funeral. The flag draped casket with the rider less horse behind it is about all. But the events of November 22 and 24 are something I can never forget. I don’t know if anyone who lived through it can.