Where Were You?
My friend Peter posted this picture on Facebook this morning, and throughout the day, I've remembered November 22, 1963.
I was working in my first job after graduating high school. It was at what was then The Bell Telephone Company of Pennsylvania, in their offices at One Parkway, kitty-corner from the Suburban Station Building in Philadelphia. I had gone with some coworkers from the steno pool down to the Suburban Station Concourse for a bite of lunch and a bit of shopping. At that time, the Associated Press office had a glassed-in office in the concourse, with a couple of teletype machines running inside the windows. People would glance at the teletypes on their way by, getting a first-hand glimpse of the news before it made its way into The Evening Bulletin or the evening news.
We heard someone over by the AP window cry out and went over immediately to find out what was going on. And there we saw the news of the assassination coming across the teletype machine. We hurried back to One Parkway, fourth floor steno pool, and shared what we'd learned. Our supervisor didn't seem to believe us, so we asked her to turn on the radio, which quickly confirmed the news. We were so sorry to be right . . . .
I was working in my first job after graduating high school. It was at what was then The Bell Telephone Company of Pennsylvania, in their offices at One Parkway, kitty-corner from the Suburban Station Building in Philadelphia. I had gone with some coworkers from the steno pool down to the Suburban Station Concourse for a bite of lunch and a bit of shopping. At that time, the Associated Press office had a glassed-in office in the concourse, with a couple of teletype machines running inside the windows. People would glance at the teletypes on their way by, getting a first-hand glimpse of the news before it made its way into The Evening Bulletin or the evening news.
We heard someone over by the AP window cry out and went over immediately to find out what was going on. And there we saw the news of the assassination coming across the teletype machine. We hurried back to One Parkway, fourth floor steno pool, and shared what we'd learned. Our supervisor didn't seem to believe us, so we asked her to turn on the radio, which quickly confirmed the news. We were so sorry to be right . . . .
Comments
Years later I was a teacher in that very same school and very same classroom. Each year on Nov. 22nd, I'd sit in a student desk on the very same spot where I had sat that fateful day, and I'd remember the impact that JFK's death had on the country.
Wishing you and yours a very Happy Thanksgiving. Warmest regards,
Anna