On November 22, 1963, America mourned the loss of their beloved President: the one who promised to put a man on the moon by the end of the decade, the one who got the nation through the Cuban Missile Crisis, the one who stood in front of the Berlin Wall and shouted “Ich Bin Ein Berliner”, the one who set the Civil Rights Act in motion.
On that fateful day, when John F. Kennedy arrived in
Americans lined the motorcade route, spilling out onto the street, excitement
in the air. As Kennedy’s limousine made
its way through the Dallas streets,
Governor Connally turned to him and said:
“You can’t say that Dallas
doesn’t love you, Mr. President”. Within
minutes, however, Kennedy was struck down by an assassin’s bullet in , caught on tape by Dealey
dressmaker Abraham Zapruder.
Americans watched as they buried their president: John-John saluting his father’s coffin as it passed by; Jacqueline and Bobby walking behind the slain president’s coffin, only the clip clop of the horses breaking the silence; and a military gun salute piercing the sky as Kennedy was laid to rest at Arlington Cemetery, on a hill overlooking Washington D.C.
Fifty years later, Americans still remember that day. The images are forever burned into their consciousness. They will never forget that one brief shining moment – Camelot.