The dance that never was...

It was Friday, November 22, 1963 and I was working with a group of teens preparing for the Thanksgiving Dance at Waterloo Junior High School in Howard County, Maryland. The group consisted of a number of kids working on the decorations. I can no longer recall what the decorations were, because they never were used.

Earlier in the day, the Vice Principal had come around, with tears in his eyes, to let us know that the president had been shot in Dallas, and it was not hopeful. I was, like all others, stunned!

The Vice Principal asked us all to keep doing normal activities because they didn’t want to tell the kids as the day would have been a write off and none of us knew what we would do. So, it was business as usual until five minutes before the end of the day, when the Principal would come on the loud speaker and tell the school what had happened, would cancel all activities for the weekend and send the kids home.

So, in the last period, I was making decorations with my kids and holding back tears myself. At five minutes before the end of the day, the Principal came on the loud speaker and told the students what had happened.

When he came on, I left the room, trying to hold myself together. The kids did many things; some laughed, some cried, some cheered and some did nothing. No one understood what had happened, nor even believed it. I don’t think it sank in until everyone got home and got to a TV and saw what had happened.

It didn’t really sink in. I had the news for hours before the end of the day, but it didn’t really sink in.

It was the dance that never was, and it was the dance I had to be positive about until five minutes before school ended.

I went home and hugged my wife and my little boy and stayed in front on the TV for the next few days.