Two Score and Ten Years Ago

Two score and ten years ago, a school bus dropped some kids at St. Joseph's Church.  Back in those days, Friday afternoons were early release times.  Some kids went for religious education classes.  Others went home to prepare for Seders. While all this sounds strange today (even to me), it really did happen, back in those days!  As we got off the bus, red-eyed nuns hurriedly pinned tissues into our hair to assure no one went into church unless they had something in their hair.  While all this sounds strange today (even to me), it really did happen, back in those days! 

We were hushed and ushered into the church where women in long black veils were sobbing and lighting candles. The priest, his back to us, preformed, perhaps, a silent mass.  The church slowly filled with people who looked as if the world was about to end.  While all this sounds strange today (even to me), it really did happen, back in those days!   We were told to get on our knees and pray.  We did so without questioning.  Kids did not question a habit-clad nun who seemed to be holding the whole world on her shoulders.  While all this sounds strange today (even to me), it really did happen, back in those days!  Nothing was said to us about the horrific events of the afternoon as we were herded onto buses.  While all this sounds strange today (even to me), it really did happen, back in those days!

 

Later, the whole family huddled around our tiny black and white TV and watched as a first lady, covered in bloody clothes swore in a new president.   We ate quietly in front of the tiny TV from which we rarely moved all weekend.  It was as if time stood still for all of us.  While all this sounds strange today (even to me), it really did happen, back in those days!     

 

No one talked of his transgressions and no one questioned his illnesses or personal weaknesses.  Reporters did not do that in those days.  While all this sounds strange today (even to me), it really did happen, back in those days!  No one wanted our innocence (as a country, as a people) to be shattered and so we sat, in silence and hoped that somehow, through naming schools, airports and roads after our fallen hero (whose life was cut short and whose dreams were not fulfilled) we could remember the good and somehow, find the strength to go forward. While all this sounds strange, it really did happen!