[polldaddy poll=6663451]
Days
Hours
Minutes
Technical assistance courtesy of the Mary Ferrell Foundation | Designed by iWebResults
[polldaddy poll=6663451]
Technical assistance courtesy of the Mary Ferrell Foundation | Designed by iWebResults
The night JFK was shot is frozen in time. It’s a dark November evening at the inter faculty cabaret competition – the finals- at the student’s union at King’s College London. I am in the faculty of engineering team head to head with the team from the faculty of laws. We were in awe of the judges among whom is Jane Asher then famous for association with the Beatles but also the sister of Peter of the Peter and Gordon one hit singing duo. Peter is also student at the college – of philosophy. The atmosphere is light but as we approach the interval there is a palpable sense if unease and whisperings and murmuring among the audience. From the wings we don’t fully understand what’s occurring. What have we done to cause this unrest? Interval arrives and an announcement us made. JFK has been assassinated. There is a total sense of disbelief and shock. Do we disband or continue this evening of mirth? That bit I do not remember. What I do remember that we the engineering faculty are runners up the infinitely more polished faculty of laws and that we leave with a sense of unease at the loss of a war leader – as the Cold War is so much part of our lives as we live in the shadow of nuclear war. It is not long since JFK had taken us back from the brink in the Cuban crisis. The dark November evening has become even darker.