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Your memories of the Sixties

The 1960s were bracketed by two events that most people remember vividly: the assassination of President John F. Kennedy and the night astronaut Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon.

While the moon landing was the most significant global event in human history, the Kennedy assassination -- coming as it did during America's ascendancy, and involving a charismatic leader much admired around the world -- loomed nearly as large.

For Americans, memories of Kennedy's death pack an emotional wallop that a mere technological marvel could not hope to match.

We asked readers to send us their memories of the 1960s. By an overwhelming margin, they chose to tell us their thoughts and feelings on the death of their young president.

Others sent happier memories of the 1960s, from the night the Beatles appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show to the Rolling Stones' concert at the Rhode Island Auditorium and the night the lights went out across the Northeast.

Their stories follow.

The day the president died

Hank Sennott Jr. of Fall River was 10 years old and attending Our Lady of the Presentation Grammar School in Brighton, Mass.:

We were in church participating in a 40-hour devotional service when one of the priests came in and announced that the president had been shot and that we should go back to school.

The nuns were in tears. By the time we got back to the school, it was announced that the president had died.

I remember one of the Sisters telling us that the president had gone right to heaven because he kept a pair of rosary beads in his jacket pocket and would say the rosary when walking to meetings, etc. (Honestly.)

I also remember the walk home from school, when even the school toughies were visibly upset by the announcement.

As a sign of how the times have changed, we were dismissed from school early with virtually no thought given as to whether anyone would be home when we got there. For most of us, Mom was home because she didn't work; and for the few whose mother wasn't home, there was a grandmother, aunt or neighbor where one could go. That wouldn't be the case today.

Sennott also remembers being on Cape Cod on another date crucial for the Kennedys: July 18, 1969.

I'll never forget being in my Dad's car at the rotary by the Hyannis Airport when a plane came barreling in very low over the roadway in an approach that I've only seen that once (and I live on the Cape now.) It seemed like a car on two wheels.

It was Ted Kennedy's plane coming back from Chappaquiddick.

***

Gail Curran of Smithfield was 5 years old and shopping with her mother on Main Street in Woonsocket:

I remember people shouting in a panic-type of state, ``The president has been shot!'' My mother, while holding my hand, ran out into the street, screaming and crying, ``Oh my God, Oh my God!''

Everyone was running out into the street screaming the same words. It was incredible! For a 5-year-old, it was very upsetting . . . I remember that day like it was yesterday.

***

Jim Converse of Providence served in the U.S. Army in West Berlin, Germany, between 1962 and 1965, and was in the honor guard that greeted President Kennedy at the airport in the French sector of Berlin in 1963:

He was motorcaded into the American sector and had a huge turnout by the West Berliners. It was a great thrill to see how these people greeted him.

Approximately 5 months later, I was sitting in the recreation room when a sergeant came in and said that the president had been killed. The next morning a formal parade was held where the commanding general announced the death of the president. It was amazing to see the outpouring of the German people again. In June it was excitement; in November it was shock.

Businesses closed, people placed flowers and cards at the American headquarters, and when Berlin's City Hall plaza was renamed after our president, it was reported that there was about 25,000 people there. But it seemed so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Taps were played, and then an echo of taps was played from about a block away. It was really moving.

Funny thing, a couple of years earlier, when candidate Kennedy spoke on the steps of Providence's City Hall, I went right on by and went to work. Couldn't have cared less at that time.

***

Maxine Pickering of East Providence was working as an executive secretary when she heard a fellow employee come shouting through the company's lobby:

``Hooray, Jack Kennedy has been shot!''

It was like ice water had been poured over me. It was difficult to believe anybody could be so delighted with the assassination of our president, regardless of (his or her) political views . . . Wonder if this same person was as elated at the tragic loss of JFK Jr.

***

Anna Fedorowicz of Cranston was driving to Brooks Brothers in Boston with her husband when the news came over the radio that the president had been shot:

While my husband was being measured for a suit he was buying, a clerk opened the window and lowered the flag (to) half mast. We knew then the p resident had died.

***

Connie O. Ricci was living in Manville, which she describes as a very French-Canadian village:

. . . My mom and I were returning from marketing, and as I parked the car in the driveway, my elderly aunt ran out on the porch yelling, in French: ``Le president est blesser!!'' ``The president has been wounded!!'' My mom and I both started to cry, as did my aunt.

As I entered my mom's home my dad, who was paralyzed and sat in his wheelchair, had just opened the television. Walter Cronkite was reporting, and all of a sudden he announced or tried to announce that the president was dead. He was wiping his eyes, and trying to continue.

I looked up at Dad and he was crying . . . and this is the first time in my whole life that I saw him cry! Even today as I write this memory, tears come to my eyes.

What a waste of human life, and even today it never ends. I was only 25 years old when this happened, and it seemed that suddenly we grew older from this tragedy. Life, as we knew it, was changed forever. Later, we witnessed the shooting of Oswald on television and this was horrible!

No, this time will never be forgotten by me or the world. But, I love America so much, even today and always will. We are a great country, and how can a nation under God fail?

***

Deborah Bernardo of North Providence knew something big was up when a telephone outside her fourth-grade classroom started ringing. That hardly ever happened.

The teacher left to answer it, and the kids all started acting up. They stopped abruptly when they heard her crying out in shock.

The entire class fell silent. I don't think we even took a breath until out teacher reappeared. She stood before us in silence for what seemed a very long time. When she spoke, her voice trembled.

``President Kennedy has been shot.''

I remember being more frightened at that moment than I had ever been . . .

As I waited for my father to pick me up, I thought about the Kennedys, Caroline and John. Who would tell them their father had been assassinated, and who would pick them up?

***

Kenneth A. Womack of Pawtucket was a young man working in a local jewelry shop:

During the afternoon break a coworker said to me, ``Did you hear that Kennedy was shot?''

I asked him, ``What's the joke?'' He said, ``No joke,'' but I certainly didn't believe him.

Leaving work that day in my 1955 Oldsmobile, I wondered why my favorite radio station was not playing its usual music. It was dark as I drove home to Pawtucket. A woman was sweeping the street, outwardly upset and asking ``Why did they do this?''

I began to realize that my friend's remark was no joke.

***

Marion Avarista, pregnant with her third child, was in Roberti's Meat Market on Federal Hill when the news came over the radio.

On Dec. 25, 1963, I gave birth to my son, whom we named John Kennedy Avarista. On Dec. 5, 1982, my son John had a son whom he named John Kennedy Avarista Jr.

The special feeling in our family for the legacy of John Kennedy continues to this day. Avarista is the director of Travelers Aid of Rhode Island.

***

Anne F. Ventriglia's father was so upset by the news that he came running into the kitchen yelling, ``President Roosevelt has been shot!''

He quickly corrected his mistake. ``I am so sorry, I meant John Kennedy is the victim.

It was a terrible weekend for my husband and I. John F. Kennedy was killed on my husband's birthday and he was buried on our 18th wedding anniversary.

***

In Mr. Cunningham's biology class at Hope High School in Providence, Ronald Ruggieri of Warwick was watching a film on the circulation of the blood :

Mr. Cunningham interrupted the bloody film with real bloody news: ``President Kennedy has been shot in Dallas, Texas this afternoon -- along with Governor Connolly!'' I recall the teacher suggesting that we say a prayer. We were then all dismissed for the day.

On the car radio we got confirmation of Kennedy's death. The Cuban missile crisis had already made me a news addict. Like the rest of the nation, I was hungry for every scrap of information on the assassination.

Seeing mug shots of Lee Harvey Oswald on TV, I was, at 16, introduced to a type that would become all too familiar in the tumultuous Sixties decade: the angry young man. If anybody seemed born with a chip on his shoulder, it was this Oswald character. I recall that picture of him holding a socialist newspaper, The Militant, in his hand. Oddly enough, The Militant was one of the saner left-wing newspapers back then, and would never have encouraged such a vile deed as the murder of JFK.

I'll never forget that dismal, rainy weekend: Oswald himself getting shot on TV (a commentator referred to this event as ``the first nationally televised murder''!). The Kennedy funeral.

At the time, my Catholic faith -- influenced by thinkers like Bertrand Russell -- was very stressed, to say the least. The Kennedy assassination was my introduction to the Absurd. Even today its bloody senselessness still appalls me.

There were JFK cynics back then. My cousin, who was attending Brown University at the time, referred to him as a ``meatball'' -- whatever that meant. One quirky idea I had: I wondered if the pharmacy where I went for a vanilla Coke would honor a dollar bill!

***

Carolyn Cole of Cranston was living in Vineland, N.J:

My son, Richard -- who is now married and living in Denver, Colorado -- was barely six months old at the time. I was visiting via telephone that morning with another new mother, also recently transplanted from her home state. When the conversation ended, I headed for the kitchen, passing the living room on the way, where the television was turned on. I noticed an unfamiliar tone to the news commentator's voice and stopped to listen.

It took me a few minutes to grasp what had happened only moments before in Dallas. I remember feeling badly shaken by the enormity of what I was hearing, and instinctively checking on my son, who was sleeping peacefully in his crib, to be certain that he was all right.

Like most of the world, I spent the next few days in front of the television screen following the drama that unfolded literally before the nation's eyes. Many of the details of events that followed have faded from my memory, but even today I remember vividly precisely where I was and the disbelief and fear I felt in those first moments.

***

Al Correa was a first-grader at the old Merino Street school on the west side of Providence:

I was at home with a cold that day watching TV. My dad, who worked a night shift, and who spoke very little English (he was from Brazil), was at home keeping an eye on me and my little sister.

When the news broke, my dad didn't understand what had happened, and I had to translate the news reports for him. I remember him being so shocked that something like that could happen, I vividly remember him asking over and over who did it and why, but at that time there were no answers.

He immediately called my mom, who was working as a legal secretary, and told her the news, then we sat in front of the TV the rest of the day, as I did my best to translate the reports to him (a lot of which were beyond the comprehension of a 6-year-old) as he hung on every word with incredulity.

In truth, it was his reaction to the event that made it most memorable to me. Even though my family was not ``Kennedy people,'' the idea that someone would intentionally kill the president of the United States, the leader of the country, was simply unbelievable to my dad.

***

Joan Sachuk of Smithfield was watching As The World Turns when the bulletin broke in. Her older children were at school; the little ones too young to know what was happening.

I cried continuously and needed to talk to someone. When Charlie, my husband, came home, both of us felt as though the tragedy had occurred in our own family.

In the days that followed, the newspapers and television repeated the story and the country seemed to stop.

***

Sandy Finberg Feit of Barrington was in the eighth grade at Nathan Bishop Junior High School. She was so upset her mother suggested she write down her thoughts and feelings in her journal:

November 22, 1963. Algebra class. Last period, Friday. The class was restless and talkative, as usual. Several times, the lesson was stopped, we were lectured, and class began again. At around 2:15 p.m. four bells rang, the signal for a radio announcement.

Mr. Millman [the principal] was very disappointed with the noise in the corridor and told us to have a silent passing back to homeroom.

``Maybe,'' Mr. P. (a teacher) commented, ``that is just what this class needs.'' The lesson began again, and so did the talking. Mr. P. was fed up. ``This class will be back here at the 2:45 bell. We will continue the lesson at that time.''

Four bells rang again.

``What now?'' asked Mr. P., not really interested in an answer. Mr. Millman's voice was heard saying, ``I have some very sad news.'' He paused for a long moment. What most of us thought was that maybe (we) couldn't play our final and most important football game of the season. The announcement continued. ``The president of the United States, John Fitzgerald Kennedy,'' -- he paused and then blurted out -- ``has been shot and killed.''

The class was aghast. We could barely hear what he said about silent passing to homeroom and out of school. The class was shivering. I felt weak, numb. My stomach began to ache a terrible pain.

``Impossible. Incredible,'' Mr. P. commented. ``I don't believe it!''

We had no idea where it happened, or who did it, or how it happened. Thoughts raced through our minds: what if it was a Communist?

Mr. P. canceled our after-school appointment with him. He had us line up and wait for the passing bell. [One classmate] started to cry.

The others were on the verge of it. The boys were asking questions, and Mr. P. did his best to answer them, although I think he knew no more about it than we did.

Passing bell. ``Boys and girls, remember the silent passing. Pass.''

We went across the corridor and down the stairs, where we saw Miss W. talking with Mrs. L., looking more frightened than we had ever known her to be before. We filed into our seats, waiting for her to come in. At last, after a few minutes in the hall, she came in, or rather, staggered in, and looked as if she would fall over. She faced us at the front of the room, sat on her desk and shut her eyes. We all waited, in misery, for the bell to ring. At last it rang, but she didn't dismiss us. Finally, she began to speak, in a low, eerie voice. ``Boys and girls, when you leave this building, leave in complete silence. There are two reasons. First, Mr. Millman requested it. Second, and perhaps the more important, is respect.'' At that she gave a faint, false smile, which quickly faded.

What followed these words wasn't heard because we were off in a daze. I couldn't wait to get home and learn the details. Finally, she gave us the signal to line up and go to our lockers, and she told us to march out in an orderly fashion. At last, she dismissed us.

My friend's mother had come to pick us up. She wasn't in her car so we looked around and saw her in a friend's car, red-faced, watery eyes, and miserable. She hadn't known about what happened till she arrived -- then a friend saw her and asked if she heard the latest news. She hadn't and turned on the radio. When she heard the news broadcast, she burst out crying.

On the way home, we all discussed the matter. When I came home, Mom was on the phone. I asked her if she heard, and she nodded sadly. I felt tears in my eyes and went to wash my face. When I got out, she was off the phone. She had been talking with Aunt Leah, who told her what my cousin had said not long before -- while studying presidents, they found there seemed to be a certain pattern of presidents assassinated or dying in office. ``Strange,'' he had said, ``but it seems to be Kennedy's turn.'' I was shocked.

Then Judy (my sister) came home, crying. When we inquired about it, she said, ``Don't you know? The president's dead!'' She ran to her bed, sobbing. Her teacher had told them bluntly and cried herself. Judy's whole class bawled.

That night there were the biggest headlines I'd ever seen in my life:

``Pres. Kennedy Slain'' across the front page stood in giant, bold black print, around 3 inches high. On TV, the story and news was on every station, announcing each new development in the case. Number 1 suspect held: Lee Harvey Oswald. He was in Russia until around last year trying to get citizenship, but failed. He returned and had something or other to do with Cuba. They found the gun used. They kept going over every detail. Nothing much new was on TV, so I went to bed earlier than usual.

***

Judy Isabel of Somerset, Mass. was an eighth-grade student at Morton Junior High School in Fall River:

My friend Nancy and I decided to skip school and we holed up in her family's apartment. We did not watch TV but rather played records, applied makeup and ate snacks.

At the end of the school day, I walked to the school area to meet friends I normally walked home with. The area was deserted. I walked home alone thinking I surely would be found out.

When I got home, my family was gathered around the TV, heartsick about the events of the day in Dallas. I never was found out -- and even today, when I see Nancy, we always remember where we were that day.

***

Ed Watters was at work at the Elbee File & Binder Co. in Fall River:

I remember thinking that we would be going to war with the Russians, as I felt then that they had directed the as s assination.

He also watched the 1968 Democratic Convention on television and I clearly remember that the convention was more important to the media than what was going on in the streets .

He recalls two other events of the 1960s as perhaps the highest and lowest moments of the century.

When Robert (Kennedy) was shot I thought then that this was probably one of the most infamous days this country had ever experienced.

And then, a year later:

When Neil Armstrong stepped on the moon on July 19,1969, I was in the Maine woods at Mount Blue State Park with my family. We and about 35 other campers were gathered at the site of a gentleman who had a little six-inch portable TV that plugged into a cigarette lighter. The sky that night was absolutely clear and if you looked up at the moon you would swear you could see the Eagle. I don't think I've ever been prouder to be an American.

***

Beverly Taraborelli of North Providence was working in the office of the Big G Market in Pawtucket when two cashiers came running in with the news.

About an hour later I received a phone call from the main office, saying the president had died and to announce it over the PA system and also to close the market for two hours.

I was so distraught I couldn't even drive home. I had to call my father to pick me up. I will always remember that horrible day.

***

Gordon A. Yaghjian was in the 10th grade at the Dighton-Rehoboth Regional High School:

The news and the school were both traumatic experiences for me!, he writes. But it wasn't all suffering. He remembers buying a Beatles wig at the then-Zayre discount store in East Providence to wear to a youth group rally at East Providence High School.

I did it on a bet , says the former Seekonk selectman and chairman of the Planning Board.

***

Rosemarie Marra of Providence was in her kitchen, feeding her three-month-old twin daughters while their brother played nearby.

The radio broke in with a special news report that the president had been shot. What a feeling -- a chill. I broke down and cried and prayed that he would survive.

***

John W. (Jack) Gregson lives in Juneau, Alaska these days, but he was born and raised in Rhode Island and was deeply enmeshed in New England affairs during most of the 1960s.

He heard the news about Kennedy's assassination in class at Hope High School, watched the Beatles on Ed Sullivan at home in Smithfield, heard Martin Luther King give his ``I have a dream'' speech while fishing at a Smithfield pond. And he was at sea off the Massachusetts coast (aboard the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Hornbeam) when Armstrong walked on the moon.

***

Sixteen-year-old Lloyd Evans was sitting in his history class at Pilgrim High School:

I remember it becoming very quiet as it was announced that everyone was being sent home. I spent the next three days watching, like everyone else, as history was beamed into my parent's den on a black-and-white TV.

When Martin Luther King made his famous speech on the steps of the Lincoln Monument, I watched it on a small TV as I did my cleaning at the Airport Inn across from the airport. I would go there with my friend's dad to help him clean and set up and then I'd go home.

While I ate the free hot dog he always gave me, I was amazed at how many people this man had attracted to Washington. The Airport Inn is long gone and was replaced by a Lum's restaurant, which, in turn, was replaced by a Hooters on Airport Road.

***

Susan-Marie Beauchemin remembers she was coloring the eggplant on a mimeographed cornucopia in my eighth-grade classroom at Holy Family School. A ninth grader ran in and announced ``The president has been shot!''

She has other '60s memories:

When the Beatles appeared on Ed Sullivan, I was home, and took a photo of the TV screen w/ my Kodak Brownie camera. By the time Mr. Armstrong walked on the moon, I was married. My husband was away on a Polaris submarine. I set the alarm clock to be up (I recall it happened sometimes in the middle of the night), and watched this incredible event.

***

Rodney Weiss, formerly of Lakewood, covered a lot of territory in the 1960s, thanks to the U.S. military:

When JFK was killed, I was a member of the Army band at Fort Benning, Ga. We had gone to Fort Gordon, Ga. by bus (a six-hour trip) to participate in a change-of-command ceremony which was to take place the next afternoon. We heard the news of the assassination when we arrived there. They held us there for an hour or two, then sent us back to Fort Benning for an early morning ceremony for President Kennedy.

When Martin Luther King Jr. gave his famous ``I have a dream'' speech, I was stationed in Wichita Falls, Texas. I had left the Army and joined the Air Force, and was there for training for six months prior to being stationed in Arizona. When Neil Armstrong walked on the moon, I was stationed in Arizona at Luke AFB.

***

Carol Choiniere of North Smithfield was attending Johnson & Wales:

I was sitting in a classroom being taught by John Micheletti. Someone came to the door and gave him the news. He then dismissed the class. I drove home stunned by the news and trying not to cry.

***

Eleanor (Wilson) Greene was a senior at East Greenwich High School:

School had just gotten out and we heard it on a car radio . . . We found it so hard to believe . . . Things like this did not happen in America . . . The next few days were like in slow motion, watching the funeral procession on television, John-John saluting as his father passed by, Jackie showing grace better than any queen could have and all of American mourning with the Kennedys.

At this time it did not matter whether you were a Democrat or a Republican; the only thing that mattered was that our president had been slain.

She also recalls the night the Beatles did Ed Sullivan:

I was spending the weekend up in Frenchtown with my girlfriend Roxanne. We were sitting on the floor in her parent's parlor waiting for the show to come on. We were so hyped up about the Beatles coming to America and being on Ed Sullivan's show.

We had seen the news reports on television with them arriving by plane and could not believe how the teenagers were going wild at the airport. Naturally, when they sang ``I Want To Hold Your Hand,'' we went kind of crazy, too.

Roxanne's parents kind of just shook their heads as if to say ``What's all the fuss about?'' We were ecstatic.

***

Dr. Mary K. Burke was a freshman at Bay View Academy, doing her algebra homework in study hall, when a student came running down the hall screaming that the president had been shot:

Curiously, no teacher chastised her for disruptive behavior. Everyone was totally quiet for a few minutes and then the principal announced the death of the president over the PA. There was little conversation either at dismissal or on the bus going home.

As soon as I got home, I turned on the TV. My family and I listened until the coverage ceased on Monday afternoon. When Oswald was shot, my mother ran from the kitchen into the TV room, leaving the dinner to burn. We only noticed when we smelled the smoke! It didn't matter, no one was hungry anyway.

***

Tonia Matthews was a teenager living in Vicenza, Italy, where her father was stationed in the military. She was coming out of the base theater when she heard the news:

The theater manager said that he heard that Kennedy had been shot in the neck. I said to a friend, ``That's how rumors get started. People pass on misinformation.''

By the time I had taken the bus home, my parents had learned through telephone calls that it was true. Most of our information at home came from telephone calls after that.

I believe I'm one of the few people who did not see anything on television.

***

Anne L. Shanahan was a member of the class of 1964 of Mount St. Mary Academy in Fall River:

We were taking a tour of the campus of Rhode Island College. As we were passing thru the library I believe someone had a black-and-white portable TV on. I vividly remember seeing Chet Huntley wiping tears from his eyes and telling us that JFK had died.

That was the end of my happy carefree teenaged days. I do believe that I saw the world as it (was) that day.

***

Tina Demers of Providence was practicing with the Glee Club for an Christmas concert at her private Catholic girls high school:

While singing ``It's A Big Wide Wonderful World We Live In,'' a very dear nun in her eighties came in to the auditorium. To that point, her only job at the school seemed to be washing the floors and praying for our young souls.

This tiny dear lady with no authority over any of the activities at the convent solemnly raised her hand. We stopped singing. She then told us that JFK had been shot.

There was no preamble of softening words. None was necessary, for her moment of authority and tear-filled eyes informed us of the shared catastrophe. As a single unit, over 30 young ladies swooned, sat on the floor and quietly cried.

This joint spontaneous reaction would have been enough to become an indelible memory for all of us. However, the next experience has etched the event in my mind forever. The Glee Club director, Mother Carmel, forced us up off the floor, and forced us to keep on singing, ``It's A Big Wide Wonderful World We Live In,'' through tears, forced us to sing ``Let There Be Peace On Earth'' through prayers that he would recover, forced us to sing through our own fear for the mortality of our parents who were his age.

I have never determined whether this was an act of kindness or brutality on her part. The power she exerted over us was absolute. It was an insulated world we lived in, even though it was the '60's -- lives ruled by parents, nuns, priests, church services, dances, and fear of failure. So as we sang under duress, there was no voiced objection.

For me, it was the first time I felt a sense of having folded rather than revolted.

As I have aged I often think of what JFK's death meant to those dedicated and sometimes misguided nuns. The only references to men by the Religious of Jesus and Mary who were our teachers were to the priests associated with Notre Dame Church in Fall River. Notre Dame was loosely associated with my high school for reasons of simple geography. It was across the street and we went to confession there weekly and Mass every day during Lent. One of the priests was also the confessor for all the nuns in our school -- certainly a spiritually intimate relationship. The only lay man that was a part of their every day lives was the groundskeeper -- that is, until JFK was elected.

A Catholic in the White House -- and a young handsome one at that -- was more than the nuns could bear. It was the closest thing to hero worship I had ever witnessed. They dedicated their novenas and rosaries, offered up their simple acts of charity and humility -- all to his success and happiness. It bordered on sacrifices at the altar of some worldly god that they would never meet but chose to believe in.

What did any one of these woman feel in their hearts on that day in November?

What was Mother Carmel's motivation to keep us singing through our pain?

With all the things I have figured out in my life, that will always remain a mystery to me.

***

Ed Figarsky was in the first grade at Woodridge Elementary School in Cranston:

I had no idea who Kennedy was, and thought he was a neighborhood dog until I got home and realized what had happened. That weekend, right before lunch, we were watching TV and saw Jack Ruby shoot Oswald. We talked about it while eating in the car at Burger Chef in Cranston; it's something I'll never forget.

I watched the Ed Sullivan show with my family. My aunt went to Shea stadium to see the Beatles a year or so later . . . . I don't remember much about Martin Luther King Jr. from my childhood, but I do remember hearing of ``the riots.'' My great-grandmother lived in the Roger Williams projects and it didn't seem to concern my family. She was one of the few white residents there. I wasn't ever taught to be afraid of blacks as a child, but I think television and news changed that. It's a shame.

My memory of the space race is more vivid. As a child, I watched every launch I could. My dad designed some seals which were used on the (lunar excursion module) , and he would bring home literature about the Apollo program. When Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon, I was at Camp JORI. We all sat around the television in the gym and listened to the first steps on the moon.

Listened, because the picture tube was broken! I was sorry to have missed seeing it, but camp is camp!!!

***

James F. Cotter of North Kingstown was living in the mostly Irish-Catholic neighborhood of Edgewood in Cranston:

My parents were so excited when Kennedy was elected that they traveled to Washington, D.C., for his inauguration. The day of the assassination, I was an 11-year-old fifth grader at St. Paul's School. I recall the nuns gathering in the hallway, and then announcing the news over the public address system. School let out immediately.

I don't recall if the funeral was on a school day, but I do remember sitting at home and watching the entire proceeding. The most moving moments were John Jr. saluting his father's casket, and the riderless horse with the backwards boot in the stirrup.

***

Milton H. Yeaw of North Scituate was working for Stender Equipment in Olneyville:

My job was delivering and demonstrating equipment, as well as driving truck, he writes.

Stendor Equipment operated from a section of Atlantic Coal Co.'s Garage. Amos Stender Sr. worked for his son. Amos senior was a six-foot John-Wayne type of a man, who I had the pleasure of frequently working with.

He had steel-blue eyes, which conveyed his thoughts even before he spoke.

This day, I was preparing to deliver an 8010 John Deere scraper to Tournquist Lumber in Foster for demonstration purposes. Amos approached me in the coal company yard. I could read tragedy in his eyes even before he told me that Kennedy had been assassinated.

On my ride from Olneyville to Foster up Route 6 on that day, I had my thoughts focused on something other than demonstrating a tractor.

***

Mark Fredrick of Providence was only 9, but remembers everything:

I was living in San Francisco at the time, attending Bret Harte Elementary School, and was in my fourth grade classroom.

The assistant principal came into the room around 10:00 a.m. and whispered something to my teacher, Miss Ricci, and she began to quietly cry. A short while later he returned, and stood in the doorway and just shook his head. My teacher lost it, and I can remember a girl in my class named Suzy crying also, not knowing why my teacher was upset.

When we were told why, I knew that this had to be really bad news because all of the adults seemed very upset and angry. We were sent home at noon, and I can clearly remember watching the funeral a few days later, the sound of that distinctive drum beat still locked in my mind. I was introduced to classical music in a strange way the day of the funeral. I never forgot the sound of Goin' Home, an adaptation of the largo movement from Dvorak's 9th symphony as it was played at the funeral Mass.

I don't remember seeing the Beatles on Ed Sullivan, but I do distinctly remember the night of their concert at Candlestick Park in 1964. The stadium was visible from our house, a few short blocks from the stadium parking lot.

I have only vague recollections of MLK's speech, except that I recall it seemed to occur around the same time that all black people seemed to be angry about something that as a young kid I didn't fully understand.

Neil Armstrong's first step is a pleasant memory for me, as in the summer of 1969 I was 15 and just beginning to become really aware of myself and the world around me. I remember playing "moon landing" the next day with my friend Raymond Proulx. We had moved from S.F. to Providence a few years earlier, and lived in the Manton section. Ray and I had found an area in the woods near our house that had a strange powdery layer of dirt on it, and we took turns leaving our footprint in it just as we had seen Neil Armstrong do the day before. We went through all the motions as if we were in a lunar landing craft ourselves. The games kids can make up!

***

Cynthia Yemma Faria was a fifth grader in Narragansett's St. Thomas More School:

Nov . 22, 1963, was like most other days, until early afternoon. That was when the principal, Sister Mary Nathaniel, walked into our classroom, whispered something to our teacher and announced to us that the president, John F. Kennedy, had just been shot and was being rushed to a hospital in Dallas, Texas.

She instructed us to put away our books and to begin saying the rosary. We prayed for the next two hours (as did the entire school). I stared out the bus window all the way home.

By the time I opened the door to my house, tears streamed down my face. I ran past my older sister (who was talking on the phone) and into my bedroom to continue crying. I can remember thinking that Kennedy was this very special person and that I was afraid of what might happen if he died.

***

Douglas G. Deacon, a Warwick native, was a member of the military police at the Marine Corps Air Station in Cherry Point, N.C.:

We had finished a tour of duty and were trying to get some sleep before we returned to duty. We were awakened and told, ``The President has been killed'' and were given the task of bringing the main post flag to half-mast at the Marine Corps Air Station.

We knew it was true because that was all that was being broadcast on the news, but it seemed unreal.

It was especially hard as he was a fellow New Englander. The local TV station was there filming us bringing the flag to half-mast and I was a Marine corporal in charge of the detail.

Deacon went on to become a North Carolina state trooper. Today, he lives in Wilmington, N.C.

***

Ann (Rathier) Vangel was 7 years old and in the third grade at Anna M. McCabe School in Smithfield. She remembers seeing her teacher, Mrs. Anderson, crying and not knowing or understanding why. I'm sure we were told, but I don't remember! she writes. We were all let out early that day and when I arrived home, I found my mother crying also.

I remember not being able to watch my usual after-school shows, and boy, was I upset about that. I couldn't watch The Salty Brine Show , which was my favorite. All that was on was news and information about Kennedy's death.

I was not happy.

She remembers President Kennedy lying in state in the Capitol's rotunda, and the drums, the horse-drawn carriage draped with the American flag, and the flags flown at half-staff so long afterward.

It was a time of great sadness and many tears were shed, but as a 7-year-old, I had no understanding of why.

***

Kevin M. Flynn, Cranston's director of planning, was a fifth grader at the Fulton School in Weymouth, Mass.:

The announcement came in two waves; first the news that the president had been shot. We were all asked to pray (this was public school, and school prayer, even then, was not a normal practice). We put our books and things away, and prayed. He was, after all, our native president.

Then I remember my teacher, Miss Blute, rushing out to the hallway and collapsing in tears into the arms of the neighboring sixth grade teacher, Mr. Hagerty. At the same time, we got the announcement over the loud speaker that the president was dead.

We were released from school early, and I ran home because the buses weren't at school yet. My parents were both home that day, and they already knew. I spent the weekend watching the coverage of the funeral.

I don't think anyone my age or older doesn't remember this moment as a pivotal one in their lives.

On a lighter note, I also have fond recollections of the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. I'm not sure if this was the very first appearance, but I do remember that one time, there was an actress named Mitzi Gaynor, who appeared right after the Beatles in a very low-cut dress. Her song was rather boisterous, and there was a great deal of jiggling.

I can remember people being appalled that Ed Sullivan would allow such a display, knowing full well that every young person in America would be tuned in to watch the Beatles.

***

Carol Pollnac was walking down the hall in her college dorm at the University of Wisconsin's Oshkosh campus, en route to lunch, when someone stuck her head out in the hall and called out to come listen to the news -- they were saying Kennedy had been shot:

Several of us crowded into her room and watched on her TV. (No one was allowed to have a TV, but she had had hers for a while without being found out).

We all had the feeling that somehow this was just someone's idea of a bad joke, that it couldn't be true. But then of course, it sank in that it was, and we went around rather silent and shaking our heads in disbelief for the rest of the day. We later watched the funeral on our friend's TV, but then the Head Resident made her get rid of it.

When the Beatles were on Ed Sullivan I was also away at school. I went to see the broadcast on the big TV in the lounge in the Student Union. It happens that at that time I had my hair cut at about the same length as the Beatles'. It was an appropriate length for a girl, but considered long for the Beatles.

I wasn't really into rock music at the time, being much more interested in the folk scene, so I didn't think much about my hair or the Beatles'. After the show, as I walked into the snack bar one of my friends called out very loudly from across the room ``Hey, Beatle!'' and it seemed that every head in the place turned to stare at me.

The Democratic Convention happened while I was at an archaeological field school on Washington Island off the coast of Door County, Wisconsin. We didn't have a TV, but we were able to get radio broadcasts of varying clarity, depending on the weather, I guess.

Anyhow, I can remember the group of us sitting around the table in the evening, washing the day's artifacts, and listening to the incredible news of the demonstrations and violence. Somehow, after the Kennedy assassination, we now had the feeling that things like this could happen and were almost to be expected.

Every time I see a full moon I think of where my husband and I were when Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. We were graduate students doing research and living in a rural village in Uganda. We stayed up long into the night listening to the Voice of America broadcast of the moonwalk.

We lay in our cots in the dark and listened to the sometimes fading and scratchy signal with a sense of awe. Here we were with the bats flying in and out at the eaves above our heads, living in a place where no one had electricity or running water, and up there some guy was walking on the moon!

Fortunately, we had decided that we had enough room to bring along the little 3-by-5-by-1-inch white plastic am radio or we would have missed the event altogether.

After listening for a long time we got up and went out and just looked up at the moon in the clear sky and marveled that someone was actually walking on its surface.

The next day all the villagers we met congratulated us because the Americans had landed on the moon. Then they would say that they had heard that the Russians had also sent someone to the moon and was it true?

***

Antoinette Hicks of Pawcatuck, Conn., thought Richard Nixon should have won the presidency. Her husband, Irving P. Hicks (who worked for the East Providence schools) was convinced Kennedy was ``the man for our times.''

The day of President Kennedy's assassination, Irving exclaimed, ``Why was this vibrant man taken in the prime of his life?''

Sadly, Hicks himself died three years later, a victim of cancer in the prime of his life.

***

Marie Patalano of North Providence was in the Social Security building in Providence, helping her husband apply for disability benefits, when two state troopers walked in and announced that the president had been shot.

It was awful. Everyone was crying , she writes. Less than five months later, her husband died, leaving her to bring up two sons alone.

***

Anna Petrucci of North Providence had only heard her brother, Bill, cry once: when their mother died.

He cried again the day JFK was shot, and so did his sister.

Paul was a professional musician in Florida when he was invited to play ``Hail to the Chief'' for Kennedy on his trip to Tampa in November of 1963.

Paul, whose real name was William Joseph Polselli, stood so close to the President he could see Kennedy's freckled hands tremble as he spoke. He remembers the firm handshake, the charisma, the rapport Kennedy had with the crowd.

Four days later, Kennedy was dead.

***

Linda J. Smith of Pawtucket left work at an Attleboro jewelry shop early on Nov. 22, 1963, to go visit her boyfriend at the Adult Correctional Institutions.

Getting off the bus at Exchange Plaza -- now Kennedy Plaza! -- I went in to McGarry's for a quick bite to eat. It was here I heard that JFK had been shot.

I then took my usual taxi to the ACI where I told my boyfriend what I had heard. He then informed me that, in fact, JFK was dead.

***

Nancy Villatico ran the two miles from Cranston East High School to her home, where she found her mother watching Walter Cronkite with their next-door neighbor, Mary Reed (whose son, Jack, would grow up to be a U.S Senator).

Everything stopped for the next four days. Then, seeing the accused assassin shot on live television made those days seem so unreal.

In college, she majored in political science and history. JFK had opened the door. Sen. Robert Kennedy was buried the day I graduated from college. My senior years of high school and college were both forever tied to Kennedy assassinations.

She went on to become a high school history teacher, and tried to inspire others as the events of the 1960s had inspired her.

Man lands on the moon

Frank Woods of Warwick was living in Kane, a small city in northwestern Pennsylvania:

That summer my parents would often leave me and a friend or two at the local drive-in theater while they would spend the evening at the country club , he writes. A cowboy movie was playing as we sat in the small Buick that my brother had stenciled on flowers and peace signs to the doors and fenders. I was 13 and the movie is a non-memory, but not that evening.

I sat outside and watched the moon all night, visualizing the landing and moonwalk, hoping someday I would join them. I am still well grounded and later discovered that a fear of heights would prohibit that early wish.

He also remembers the night the Beatles appeared on Ed Sullivan:

All five of us were watching in intense anticipation as Mr. Sullivan introduced the Fab Four. I was sitting on the floor between my older brother and sister on one of the few occasions that was more important than who had dibs on the rocking chair. I was introduced to them at 7 years old and they have been my favorite ever since.

***

Deborah Thurston Jones of Narragansett was 14 years old in July of 1969, visiting relatives in Bologna, Italy, with her grandmother.

When the U.S. landed on the moon, the whole front section of the Italian newspaper was full of pictures and articles depicting this event. I remember thinking and feeling how proud I was to be an American.

***

Doreen Shawver Gardner, of North Smithfield, was on vacation with her family:

We were visiting my mom's aunts and uncles in a rural area outside of Quebec and had to watch the lunar landing on a small, very fuzzy-screened, black-and-white TV on which Walter Cronkite's words were translated into French.

We were riveted to the TV nonetheless. I was most disappointed for my dad, who was an engineer and a big science fiction fan and who didn't understand a word of French. I was so anxious to go home to Warwick at the end of the week to read all about that exciting event in the magazines and newspapers (in English).

***

Cranston's Don Fowler was the director of the Yawgoog Scout Reservation:

We had over 1,000 Scouts and leaders in camp that week.

The staff scrounged up three TV sets and we set them up in the three camp dining halls, where the Scouts gathered and stayed up long after taps to watch the historic event.

My two children watched the event on our black-and-white TV in our cabin. My wife was working the late shift at Rhode Island Hospital, saw the landing, but missed the moonwalk while driving back to camp.

Actually, some of the kids fell asleep and had to be awakened. I wonder how many of the former Scouts remember that special night at Yawgoog?

***

Shirley Suorsa, of Coventry, was traveling with her husband and two teenage sons in Scandinavia:

On that specific day, we were staying in a hotel in Sweden. A group gathered in the lobby to watch the famous landing. The disappointing part was that the English commentary had been blotted out and replaced by Swedish, which, of course, we could not understand.

For the first time in our six weeks away from home, we really felt homesick for the good old U.S.A.

***

Father Andrew George of the Annunciation Greek Orthodox Church in Cranston had just turned 21 the day before the moon landing. A seminary student, he was home for the summer in Monessen, Pa.

That day was our annual church picnic on the church grounds. The committee had brought in several TV sets and had them around especially in the fellowship hall on the stage. I and many others were glued to the TV and almost ignored the picnic festivities.

***

Joe Nisil was a 10-year-old living in Blackstone, Mass.:

I had collected all the Apollo toys I could find, especially the (lunar excursion module), and it was all my friends and I could talk about. The afternoon of July 20, 1969, my Mom went into labor, and was taken to the hospital.

We stayed with family friends that night, and, because my Mom hadn't given birth yet, we were allowed to stay up and watch the lunar landing, waiting for word from the hospital.

It was real exciting for us! My youngest brother was born the next morning, but I can't remember which I thought more exciting at the time.

***

Daniel Donahue, of Jamestown, was on an Air France jet en route to Europe when the captain announced the moon landing, first in French and then in English:

Everyone on the plane broke into spontaneous applause. The non-Americans on the plane congratulated us Americans, as though we had a vital part in the accomplishment.

***

Mary-Anne Peotrowski, of Cranston, was a 22-year-old nurse, working for Dr. Gorfine on Federal Hill, when Kennedy was assassinated. The shock, she says, was terrible.

A much happier memory is of the moonwalk. In 1969, I was working at St. Joseph's Hospital, from 3 to 11 p.m. The anticipation, and excitement, of such an event has yet to be re-created. All the patients and staff were watching the TVs as we went room to room. The unimaginable was actually happening. We were actually putting a man on the moon.

***

Maria T. Levesque, of Warren, was spending the summer studying in France at the University of Marseille:

We watched the men walk on the moon on the dorm TV. I think, due to the time change, it was late at night or early morning. The next day I bought the city newspaper with pictures and copy (in French).

I still have that newspaper.

***

Ray Anderson, of Rumford, was staying at the Point View Hotel, a small establishment at the north end of Jamestown:

After supper, guests gathered in front of the black-and-white TV. The landing on the moon was the topic of conversation at all dinner tables. We all wanted to be part of our country's next step in space. We were all in awe of what had been accomplished, but a part of that had been us.

And then Mary, a grown mother of two school-age children, raided the (hotel) kitchen for fresh-baked cookies. Those were our champagne toasts.

***

Angie DiSano, of East Providence, wrote a song, ``Apollo 11,'' to commemorate the moonwalk. She performed it on a Providence TV station and got a personal letter of thanks from Neil Armstrong:

I'll never forget that night in our town

When the Eagle soared high on the moon

While the world stood so still, what a wonderful thrill

To see Neil on the silvery moon!

***

The Beatles on Ed Sullivan

Laurie Lamb was living in Weekapaug the night the Beatles appeared on Ed Sullivan. Her whole family was ready:

I was with my family, mom, dad, and two sisters in the living room, thrilled to be allowed to stay up until such a late hour! My Mom had previously brought home a record from the supermarket which she thought was the Beatles, labeled the Schoolboys, and we could see this wasn't entirely the same group.

At that point TV-watching was a special occasion and privilege for us. We were astonished by these adorable, long-haired, strangely dressed guys who sang odd music (which we later grew to love). We also had a Life magazine with a diagram of how to do the Twist and we tried that (pretend you are drying your lower half with a towel while stubbing out a cigarette with one toe).

Altogether we had a blast.

***

John Norton, of Coventry, was dying for the clock to strike 8 p.m. on Sunday, Feb. 4, 1964:

My family watched Ed Sullivan every week, but this show was special. I had seen the Life magazine article on the Beatles the previous week and heard ''I Want To Hold Your Hand'' on WICE on my transistor radio that I had gotten that Christmas.

When Ed said, ``Here they are, The Beatles'' and the boys launched into ``All My Loving,'' I was hooked. My father thought they looked foolish. He said they wouldn't last.

The next day, my mother took me to the Beacon Shops on North Main Street to pick up the Meet The Beatles album. That Sunday night changed my life. I have that Ed Sullivan show on video and I show it to my children now and then.

Rolling Stones in Rhode Island

It was 1965, and Leslie Improta was a student at the Oliver Hazard Perry Junior High. She absolutely could not believe her luck. She was about to see the Rolling Stones, live.

The Rhode Island Auditorium on North Main Street was packed. I remember a very tall fence-like structure that separated some of us from the Stones. My clearest memory is of many of us clutching that fence as we stood amid the screaming of all the fans.

It was a very emotional scene.

Our knuckles were sore from holding on so tightly and we lost our voices, too. The Stones were immediately popular and it was so unusual for us to have such a famous group in Rhode Island. I, like many of my friends, were ordinary teens who grew up in Providence, so we were incredibly excited.

``Satisfaction'' was the song that brought the place down. It was even difficult to hear the group singing because of the screaming fans . . .

Mick Jagger, of course, was the heartthrob and Keith Richard had second place among us girls. We couldn't get close to them and didn't like that fence as a separation. I think it only made us scream more. The auditorium was a very big place, and it was filled to the brim.

The concert at the auditorium wasn't the first time the Stones played here. Ty Davis, founder of the NewPaper and the first rock critic hired by the Journal, said a 1964 Stones concert at Loew's Theater (now the Providence Performing Arts Center) had been stopped by police after about 20 minutes.

Journal sports columnist Bill Reynolds, who was there that night, says everything was fine until Jagger motioned to the screaming crowd to come closer.

The orchestra pit was covered over with something, Reynolds recalls. When the kids came forward, they started falling through, and that was it.

The night the lights went out

Rae Ann Serio was a student at Bryant College (located in Providence at the time) on Nov. 9, 1965, the night the lights went out in the Northeast:

All the lights went out in the cafeteria. We were asked to return to our dorms, where from the third floor, we could see that not only was the entire campus in the dark, but also the entire city of Providence.

Groups of young men began forming on campus and as we watched out the window we began conversing with them (a definite no-no in those days). All the residents in the dorm were told to gather in the living room where we were informed by the dorm mother that if the person or persons who spoke out the window to young men did not come forward and confess, we would all be disciplined and perhaps even expelled from Bryant.

After what seemed like hours we convinced this loving but very strict ``mother'' that we were only trying to find out what had caused this blackout, and would never under any other circumstances have conversed out a window with male students. In those days, the only male allowed in your room was your father and only on the day you moved in and the day you moved out -- something I lost out on, seeing as my father died in 1963.

How dorm life has changed since the 1960s -- my three children have experienced not only coed dorms but coed bathrooms -- definitely grounds for public hanging at Bryant in 1965.

***

Nancy Muserlian, of Hope, was a freshman at Rhode Island College. She was heading home with two friends when they noticed the lights were out on Oakland Avenue in Cranston, and then all the way into West Warwick.

We didn't realize how extensive it was. In fact, 30 million people lost power across the Northeast.

A yearlong Providence Journal series about life in Rhode Island. Produced in cooperation with the Rhode Island Historical Society.