Thursday, 15 July 2010

In 1971, when I was looking for something to read, I found out JFK had been shot.

One summer day, I was tired of playing with all the kids in the neighbourhood, I wanted to be alone and was looking for something to read.

Sometimes it was a little kids village around the neighbourhood and there was a bunch of us, just next door, at the Morrisons, they had 14 or 15 children in the family, we had six in ours, another set of O'Neills, the Comeaus, the Barrys had four, there were the Roys I could go on but I have pictures in my mind with the names and the faces and if I need to be reminded, we have lots of photos.

There sometimes were almost too many to count, but the ball field next to 270 Station Street and the playground behind Morrison's drew them from all over town.

In any event, I needed some alone time and I was, as usual, looking for something to read. I came across a bunch of folded up newspapers in a little room off the kitchen that we sometimes used as a fort.

They started November 23, 1963.

I thought to myself, who left these yellowed old newspapers around, but they had been read a few times, I could tell that. Now, I'm interested.

With a supply of peanut butter sandwiches and some kool aid, I never left that room for three days, coming out only to eat, sleep and go the bathroom.

Some guy named JFK had been shot and I wanted to know why it was important enough that someone would save reading material that usually goes in the garbage within minutes of being read.

Besides, it didn't really matter to me because, by that time I was reading ingredient labels on cans. I just wanted something to read.

I found out all about that day in Dallas, November 22, 1963.

I started to read everything I could get my hands on about him, trying to find out why it was important, why he was important.

I needed to know this because I wanted to be important too. We all do.

I had a picture book biography to start and that gave me the base. I read until I learned why he was important and how he became important.

Among the things I read were, johnny we hardly knew ye and joshua son of none.

In joshua son of none, I found the answer. John Fitzgerald Kennedy was important because he was part of a family. I knew someday I would be important too because I was part of station street and we had the best family going.

By the way, I was a normal kid, my favourite books of all time are about Pippi Longstockings, I used to sometimes try to sleep under the covers, with my feet sticking out, but I found it too hard to breathe so I stopped trying.


Abraham, Martin & John