When you see today's date on a calendar or printed or online

[murielm99]

52. Fifteen.

I was in typing class. The clackety-clack of those old manual typewriters made it impossible to hear the intercom. Finally, a kid in the front row noticed. We got quiet. The principal told us what had happened. Then, he put the radio on all the intercoms so the whole school could hear. The kids who were at lunch commandeered the TV in the teachers' lounge. The teachers helped.

We listened to the whole thing, from the beginning of the program through the announcement of his death. There were a lot of crying kids and teachers. The meanest boy in the entire school sat in front of me. He put his head down on his desk and cried.

When the bell rang, I went to geometry class. Our school was a big, overcrowded place full of baby boomers. The hallways were always full of laughing, loud voices and slamming lockers. That day, it was so quiet you could hear peoples' footsteps. I don't remember hearing a single voice.

By the time we were all seated in math class, the principal was back on the intercom. He sent us home. The rest is history. I wish it was not.