Fifty years ago today John F. Kennedy was murdered. Like most people I remember exactly where I was when the news came in. I was newly married for six months with a baby on the way. I remember hearing the news on our black and white TV and feeling terribly shocked. JFK was a fresh youthful man and seemed to be perfect for the age. The fact that he was murdered by a pathetic little communist of doubtful abilities was an even greater shock. It didn't seem possible that such a large character could be rubbed out so easily by such a non-entity. (A similar feeling existed with the death of Princess Diana.)
Undoubtedly something else died on that dreadful day in Dallas and perhaps it was innocence as we all came awake to a harsher reality, and things have never been quite the same.
The photo is of the JFK memorial erected at Runnymede overlooking the Thames, where the Magna Carta was signed. It sits on an acre of ground given in tribute to the American people.
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