The Innocence of My Youth

Fifty years ago Friday I was in the third grade. (Yes I know, it's hard to believe that someone so youthful and vibrant as myself has been around that long, but it's true.) It was also a Friday.

I attended Lafayette El- ementary School in West Seattle and our class was in a "portable;" one of those trailers they park in the play- ground. Mrs. Young was our teacher, and she looked shocked that day - though she didn't cry - when some- one came in the room and handed her a piece of paper saying the president had been shot.

I remember that it was a very strange weekend, especially when we went to...