Sumter

  When I was in 6th grade, we took a field trip to Charleston, SC to take a tour of the historic sites. We also had some of the parents to act as chaperones.  It was a big deal, and our parents had to sign permission slips for us to go.  My mother went as a chaperone, so I was supposed to be on my best behavior.

 One of the places we were to visit was Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor.  It was the site of the first shots of the Civil War or the War Between the States or the War of Northern Aggression.  In order to get out to Fort Sumter, we had to take a ferry boat.  Even though I had been there before with my Uncle George and his boat, there was still a lot of anticipation about this journey.

 I tended to get sick on boats, so I tried my best not to throw up.  I found that the best place to be on the boat was toward the back, because we didn't bump so much on the waves.  Because most of us were around 11 and 12 years old, some of us were very inquisitive about nature and living things.  One of our kids said he had heard that if you throw a Tums at a seagull, that the bird will catch it thinking it is food.  Then, the Tums will react with the water in the bird's belly, and the bird will start foaming and blow up. That theory seemed outrageous, but of course we had to try it.  

 Someone threw a Tums to a following seagull.  It swallowed it.  A couple of minutes later, we heard a small boom, and the seagull fell into the water dead. The experiment worked.  Unfortunately, one of the chaperones saw what we had done, and that was the end of our experimentation on seagulls.  We got to Fort Sumter and had a good talking to by our teacher.  It was fun, though.

Kennedy

  I was in 5th grade.  Mrs. Kirk was our teacher.  She was short and very strict.  Some kids thought she was mean.  We had to memorize a poem every six weeks and present it before the class.  I guess she liked me, because I did mine right.  

 It was November 22nd, 1963.  We just had lunch in the cafeteria and had settled in to carve green brick.  It was basically hard clay.  They gave every kid a stainless-steel knife to work on the brick.  (Imagine giving that kind of knife to a kid today.  There could be some injuries.)  

 Suddenly, another teacher named Mrs. Elmore burst into our room and frantically told Mrs. Kirk to turn on the TV.  We had a black and white TV in our classroom to watch educational programs.  Mrs. Kirk didn't know what to think, but she cut on our TV.  Just then, we heard the news.  President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas, Texas.  I knew where Dallas was, because I spent a summer in Fort Worth, when I was 3.  

 When I heard the news, I dropped my knife onto the table and gasped.  Some kids laughed, and Mrs. Kirk told them to be quiet.  Shortly after the first news bulletin, they said that the President was dead.  There was silence in our room, and we just stared blankly at the TV screen.  

 After a few minutes, our school's principal came over the PA and said that they were dismissing school.  We didn't have school buses.  Some parents came to pick up their children.  Most of us walked home still in shock.  

 During that weekend, I was glued to the TV except for one time that my neighbor Bruce and I walked outside to get some fresh air. My mother and I saw Lee Harvey Oswald get shot live on TV.  My mother fell to her knees in front of our TV and yelled out, "They shot him"!  I don't know if she thought there was a conspiracy, but I kind of think she did.  

 Years later, I met one of the military pallbearers for Kennedy.  He lived in Columbia and named James Felder.  He later became a civil rights advocate and a hero of mine.  

 That day in 1963 will always be etched in my memory.  You just don't forget days like those. 

Cuba

  I was in elementary school, when the Cuban Missile Crisis occurred in 1962.  We were all scared that the Soviet Union was going to supply nuclear missiles to Cuba, and they would then launch them at the United States thus starting World War III.  The country started a policy for school children called "Duck and Cover".  We were supposed to get under our desks and put our hands over our heads.  This was supposed to protect us from getting killed in a nuclear war.  They also used that exercise for a possible tornado hitting our school.  

 When we got the word, we all fell to the floor and did what we were supposed to do.  As time went on, our teachers became aware that putting our hands over our heads probably wouldn't protect us much, so they moved us into the school's hallway.  We all sat with our knees to our chests, and we put our heads between our knees.  This posture was supposed to protect us better from a tornado or a nuclear blast.  It got us away from the windows in the classrooms.  Smart move.  No one really knew what would happen to us should we be hit.  It was a little more comforting though.

 Living through the Cold War was pretty traumatic.  You just never knew if or when somebody would start a war.  If I watch a movie now that pertains to a nuclear war, and it stops before something bad happens, I start to cry.  It is a reflex action from that period in my life.  Of course, we still have nuclear missiles.  So do other countries.  We also know not to "duck and cover".

 Years later, I came across a blacklight poster in a store.  It looked official from the government.  It had printed steps on what to do in the event of a nuclear attack.  The last line of the poster said, "Put your head between your knees and kiss your ass goodbye."  That made more sense than what the school had us to do.  Keep that thought in the back of your mind just in case.