When you are ten years old days seem to last forever and the events of November 22, 1963 seemed to move in excruciating slow motion. President John F. Kennedy had been shot and I couldn't wrap my head around what was going on.
I saw my friends on their knees in the playground crying as if their best friend had died. I was overcome with a sense of helplessness, wanting to figure out what it all meant. Why would someone want to shoot our president?
I went home that afternoon and remember falling into my mother's arms and telling her I was scared but I didn't know why. The television was on and the man with the glasses was reading in a sad voice, detailing everything he could tell us about that day. We sat motionless in front of that TV for what seemed hours and hours, as I said, a kid's day seems to go on forever.
I decided I wanted to know as much as I could about President Kennedy and I dove into the family encyclopedia. There I learned about him, the presidency and why he was important. It may have been the beginning of my journalistic curiosity.
The more I learned the more fearful I became of what might happen next to our country. The threat of nuclear war was very real and we were getting daily reminders of where the bomb shelters were. Before that day, I really had not a care in the world…after November 22, 1963 I wondered if there would be a world to care about.