Just when JFK fades from my memory and I’m not thinking about him, somebody has to pull him back. Now, it’s those hidden files that were supposedly released but then taken back to be released in April. Those files have spawned a flurry of new documentaries and conspiracy theories.
I’m a nervous wreck changing the channels because I never know when I’m going to come across footage of that depressing black limo turning onto the street that led to Dealy Plaza and then the horrifying “crimson burst.”
I was almost one and half years old when JFK was killed. Coming from a family that loves a good conspiracy theory, my home was filled with years of discussion about his assassination. And I can’t help but get sucked into them.
I get the reasons why it was such a tragic event. I get why it impacted America so. I understand how horrible and tragic and sad it was.
I also understand why we can’t leave it alone – because we don’t know.
And it’s for all those reasons why JFK haunts me.
I wish, for goodness sake, we could find out who killed him so he can literally Rest In Peace.
His death is one of those moments that people remember exactly where they were when they got the news. I suppose I was sitting in either my mother or my sister’s lap when I heard the news.
Where were you?