Looking at the calendar today, I am reminded that it has been 45 years since John Fitzgerald Kennedy, our 35th president, was assassinated. I was much too young to remember that fateful day in Dallas, although as a student of the assassination, I am quite familiar with it. I associate that time, though, with a totally different event: our move from Memphis TN back to my father’s hometown of Hampton.
Being the family historian means that I have a collection of all kinds of things. Among them are the bus tickets that my family used to make the trip. As I looked at them today, I wondered why there were only seven – after all, at that time, my family consisted of ten members – my parents and eight kids. My brother was only 9 months old – perhaps they didn’t charge for him. And I was only 3 – perhaps I got to ride free, too. That would mean only one of the tickets is missing.
The reverse of the tickets are date stamped – November 20, 1963. Three days later, the lives of America and the world were changed by the shots of one (perhaps more) man. But the lives of the Paige family were changed much earlier by shots of a different kind: those of racism. Because about a year earlier, my father had decided to stand up for what was right. For that, he paid a price, a price that haunted him for the rest of his days. A price that haunts his family today.
On this day, I remember the loss of a president. And the breaking of a man.
VIVIAN J. PAIGE | All Politics is Local 
A very touching story, indeed.
It is one of the few days I remember from my childhood: staying home sick from school, being allowed to watch the game shows on the television.
Then the announcer broke in, and I had to call my Mom from the other room. She immediately broke into tears, and I knew at that moment nothing would ever be the same again.
I don’t think I understood for many years why someone would want to kill the President. A few years later, of course, there was another assassination. I was older, but I still didn’t understand.
People say we should limit guns, I guess as a way of limiting violence. I wonder if we wouldn’t be better served by refusing to accept a life filled with hate and a desire for ideological purity. I know I am sick of seeing so much of American History that I am living being characterized by hatred and divisiveness. It is a horrible example given to us by a segment of our population, some of them public figures.