I never imagined that President John Kennedy would be shot and killed.
My father had worked for the Kennedy campaign in 1960 in Boulder County, Colorado--mainly because he was unemployed at the time, and it gave him something to do.
Yet there I was, a sophomore at East Bakersfield High School on November 22, 1963, standing outside near the journalism classroom, when the announcement came over the loudspeaker.
I never imagined that I would marry someone whose mother had grown up next door to Jacqueline Bouvier in East Hampton on Long Island. Jackie was seven years younger than Rosamond; horse-riding and participating in horseback competitions were central to their lives.
Rizz never imagined that she would outlive Jackie, but Jackie died not yet 65 years old and Rizz is now 91.
I never imagined that my life would stretch out much longer than either Jack or Jackie's. He had only 46 years on this wild, rotating planet, and I've now had nearly 66 years.
Jackie died of non-Hodgkins lymphoma in 1994. Both she and Rizz had smoked cigarettes in the 1950s, but Rizz had managed to quit.
One more day I never imagined:
Rizz and I had visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City in the early 1990s.
We entered the elevator to leave and found only one person already there, Jackie Kennedy Onassis.
Rizz and Jackie recognized each other and exchanged greetings. Their style of dress was similar--light coats in dark colors, pumps and purses, the uniform of Upper Eastside ladies.
I listened in awe, trying to be invisible.
And then a few years later, Jackie died.
My father had worked for the Kennedy campaign in 1960 in Boulder County, Colorado--mainly because he was unemployed at the time, and it gave him something to do.
Yet there I was, a sophomore at East Bakersfield High School on November 22, 1963, standing outside near the journalism classroom, when the announcement came over the loudspeaker.
I never imagined that I would marry someone whose mother had grown up next door to Jacqueline Bouvier in East Hampton on Long Island. Jackie was seven years younger than Rosamond; horse-riding and participating in horseback competitions were central to their lives.
Rizz never imagined that she would outlive Jackie, but Jackie died not yet 65 years old and Rizz is now 91.
I never imagined that my life would stretch out much longer than either Jack or Jackie's. He had only 46 years on this wild, rotating planet, and I've now had nearly 66 years.
Jackie died of non-Hodgkins lymphoma in 1994. Both she and Rizz had smoked cigarettes in the 1950s, but Rizz had managed to quit.
One more day I never imagined:
Rizz and I had visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City in the early 1990s.
We entered the elevator to leave and found only one person already there, Jackie Kennedy Onassis.
Rizz and Jackie recognized each other and exchanged greetings. Their style of dress was similar--light coats in dark colors, pumps and purses, the uniform of Upper Eastside ladies.
I listened in awe, trying to be invisible.
And then a few years later, Jackie died.
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