It seems as if every generation born in the twentieth century was witness to a tragedy which marked it as its most significant occurrence.

For my parents it was December 7, 1941, the day the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. Later generations would perhaps mark the explosion of the space shuttle Challenger in 1986. Certainly the events of 9/11/2001 were the defining moments for millenials.

For those of us born in the beginning and middle of the 20-year Baby Boomer era it was the assassination of President John F. Kennedy on this day in 1963 in Dallas. Ask any of us, and we will be able to tell you where we were and what we were doing on that day.

I was eight years old, attending my tiny parochial school in my small Indiana hometown. It was lunchtime, when we always had lunch at our desks since we didn’t have a lunchroom. The principal herded all the students, from 1st through 8th grade, into the chapel/gym and announced these very words: “The President has been shot.”

I don’t remember the group’s reaction, although I remember a fellow classmate clutching his chest acting like he was shot a là the old TV westerns we watched in those days.

We then returned to our classroom, which had the only TV in the building. The older students joined us and lined the walls of our classroom, where we all watched as the death of the President was announced.