John F. Kennedy, 35th President of the United States, was shot on Friday, November 22, 1963, in Dallas, Texas, USA at 12:30 p.m. Central US Standard Time. Kennedy was wounded fatally by gunshots while riding with his wife in a presidential motorcade.

I was in the10th grade at Bishop Duffy High School in Niagara Falls, New York. A long time ago, eh? Memories, though, of the day stay fresh and those that followed closely.

I was in a bus traveling across the Lewiston-Queenston Bridge to Canada from Niagara Falls. The sports boosters club was sending the high school football team on its annual outing. We were going to East Lansing, Michigan, to see Michigan State University play someone...can't remember what team. We would travel on Highway 401 across southern Ontario to Windsor, Ontario, and across the bridge to Detroit and, then, to East Lansing.

As our team passed through Canadian Customs and Immigration ("Where were you born?" "A citizen of what country?" "What are you bringing into Canada?"), one of the officers told us that President Kennedy had been shot. The information was numbing.

We traveled slowly across Ontario. Boys listened to their transistor radios in small, huddled groups. News came in slowly out of crackling, tinny speakers. I slept. Nothing else to do.

I woke not because of noise, but because of silence. All I heard was one radio playing. The voice from the radio was saying that the President was dead.

Nothing was said. The bus moved on.

We arrived in East Lansing at the stadium. The game had been cancelled. We looked at the stadium form the outside. It seemed immense. And, empty. The wind blew dust and scraps of paper around. We drove to Detroit.

The Detroit Lions did not cancel their game that night, a decision about which they were heavily criticized. We were able to obtain tickets. Our coaches spent the evening in a bar with Alex Karras, the former great player for the Detroit Lions.

When we returned to Niagara Falls, we all went to our homes to see the funeral. School remained closed for a week while we watched the terrible, black days. The next week, I saw Lee Harvey Oswald killed in Dallas on live TV. I will never forget the surprise.

I have bad asthma tonight. Had hot tea, not coffee