Do You Remember Where You Were and What You Were Doing When.......?

I read on the Internet that exactly fifteen years ago this week, Princess Diana died in a tragic car accident.  I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when the news was first broadcast.  I was lying in bed at around 11:35 that Saturday night in August of 1997, and attempting to stay awake to watch some of Saturday Night Live.  I recall opening my eyes after a brief snooze to that dreaded 'Breaking News' screen, and it was announced that Diana had died.  I thought to myself, The writers on SNL have really stooped to a new low!  Sadly, of course, the episode of SNL had been preempted for continuous coverage of the unthinkable event.  I remember that we had to buy a new refrigerator that week, and that it would be delivered the following day, even though it was Sunday.  To this day, the refrigerator, which we still use, is the Diana refrigerator, in her honor.  Silly?  Nah....it's the little things.......

Isn't it funny how we can remember precisely our whereabouts and what our situation was when a historical event in history occured in our lifetime?

When the great Neil Armstrong, who passed away this week, made his historical statement, One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind, I was sitting in my family's den.  The fabulous first steps on the moon were in July of 1969.  We watched the unparalleled Walter Cronkite glow with pride as he moderated the event.  I also remember it being a time of great worry and panic for me.  My mother was in the hospital having surgery.  At the time, I was a twelve year old boy and feared that she would die.  In those days, children under a certain age, probably fourteen, weren't permitted in hospitals as visitors.  I guess that either:

         (a) I wasn't a good listener as they explained the details of the surgery, or
         (b) It was not common to share details of serious women's surgery to the youngest in the family, or     
         (c) I just didn't know what the situation was and in those days, I never thought to ask. 

As I grew older, Mom would talk about that phase of our lives more freely, and I think it was a combination of all of the above that added to my angst and confusion.  

Isn't it ironic how a news story can trigger a slew of memories, bringing to the surface details not thought about in forty years? 

As we approach another presidential election, and endure grueling National Conventions from the major parties, I remember two events involving presidents that shut the world down, at least temporarily.  In 1963, when I was seven years old and a first grader in a Catholic school, an announcement came from Mother Mary Rita on the loud speaker that President Kennedy had been shot and killed in Dallas and that school would close.  It was the first time I saw a nun or teacher show human emotions other than anger or frustration in that classroom with 90+ kids.  We were united in sadness.  I remember my sister Stephanie and me walking home from school and finding Mom already watching the black and white telecast of reactions from a stunned and shaken Walter Cronkite, and being forever disillusioned and weakened by blurry black-and-white footage of the crying men and women all over the country.

The second event to shut the world down for a day in my lifetime was the attacks on our country on September 11th, 2001 during the George W. Bush presidency.  I was working in the same building and the same room as I do now, and watching a training video for a phonics and linguistics program the school was using for the students when the assistant principal entered the room in tears and made the announcement.  There were no students in the room at the time.  I remember the approach being a little different than the one used some forty years earlier when President Kennedy was assassinated.  This day, the students were not informed of the tragedy, school stayed in session, adults scurried to phone loved ones, and attempted to resume their training and teaching to limited avail.  When I got home, I watched clear graphic images of the mayhem and knew that my world and THE world were forever changed.

Isn't it disturbing how we remember exactly where we were and what we were doing when we learned of national and worldwide tragedies?

I can place an event in history with each of my children's first years, too.  A sturdy wooden rocking chair with arms of perfect height on which to rest a baby's head is the constant as I equate each era with it's major news story.  In May of 1985, Kevin, the oldest, came along just as the situation in the MOVE compound in Philadelphia escalated.  During his first months, Jackie and I watched in horror as a whole block of city homes not far from where she was raised was bombed and burned.  In January of 1986, Kevin was still an infant when seven astronauts died as the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded shortly after liftoff.  The news was a little  lighter in content when John, the second child, rested on my arm, as the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame honored its first woman, Aretha Franklin, as an inductee.  Still controversy loomed with President Reagan's involvement in the Iran Contra Affair raising tempers.  As the third child, Karen, took over the chair in February of 1989, we reminisced with reruns of I Love Lucy after Lucille Ball passed away in April of that year.  Last but never least, Brian burst onto the scene in 1994, and relaxed in the chair as O.J. Simpson led police on a California highway chase as he was being accused of and charged with the brutal murder of his wife.

Doesn't it lead to a therapeutic and interesting discussion when we chat about our memories of when history was written?  Do you remember where you were and what you were doing when..........?