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Show Death of a President The Stillness of Our Time I walked into the chorus classroom. class-room. Everyone was standing quiet. A radio announcer was intoning unemotionally, "The President has been shot." The President has been shot. Can it be true? "The President has been shot by an assassin's bullet in Dallas, Texas." The chant continued: con-tinued: "Motorcycle policemen escorting the President raced up a grassy knoll near the road after the shots, searching for assasins." One officer raced to a nearby railroad rail-road embankment with gun in hand ready. He found no one. THE PRESIDENT has been shot. The newspapers, radios, and television tele-vision blare out the news all over the nation. When the news reaches reach-es the Senate, Ted Kennedy - is presiding. He hears the news and retires to his office. He is there only a short time. Then he leaves No one knows where he has gone. The President has been shot "A man with black, curly hair 'has been arrested in Fort Worth" Wearing a red shirt he was dragged from a theater balcony in connection with the shooting of a Dallas policeman. Crowds outside out-side the theater had to be restrained. re-strained. e THE QUIET CHANT, the Presi dent has, been shot. A trace of emotion in the announcer's voice Gnef and anxiety grip the na-' tion." Ropes of emotion bind everyone ev-eryone together in mutual sorrow. Shaking my head in disbelief, I turn to sit down. My classmates and I look numbly at each other. THE RADIO quietly talks on. Statements of grief pour in. Seeking Seek-ing to relate the story to the local scene, a radio station calls the British ambassador in Denver for his remarks. Platitudes from people peo-ple removed. The President has been shot. The shots were fired from a warehouse ware-house overlooking the Dallas road down which Pres. Kennedy was triumphantly riding. Fried chicken was left in the bare warehouse room by the assasin. "A man has been arrested in Fort Worth ..." BACK TO REALITY. I try to sing Mahler, but I can't. Hohle, die tiefste die tiefste die tiefste At last the radio announces: "The President is dead." Shocking Shock-ing stillness. Shocked, I try to adjust to the reality of the room and its white acoustical tile. The room seems sterile, barren. Something Some-thing just left. Kennedy is dead. John Fitzgerald Kennedy is dead. . He can't guide us anymore. This is the shock: now we must help ourselves and in doing so direct, for a moment, our leader-less leader-less nation. |