Old times, bad times

Today's the 52nd anniversary of the murder of JFK.

How old am I? I remember the look on the face of the schoolmate who dashed into the classroom and said the president was shot.

I remember that weekend when there was nothing on Reno's three television channels except JFK. I remember playing board games with my father while the TV droned on.

I was not old enough to understand.

As with the murder of John Lennon, it was the lost potential that harmed us most.

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