I remember exactly where I was on this day. It was actually a great day, sunny, probably mid-60's (which is great for this time of year in Michigan). I had just finished my paper route and was heading home when I was stopped by a friend that saw me walking by.
"The president has been shot", he said, and we both ran into his house to watch it on TV.
Now these were the days before CNN, FOXnews, et al, so we had a choice of ABC, CBS, or NBC, all of which were running the same thing, that video that we've all seen of President Reagan waving to the crowd and the next second you hear people screaming, shots fired, see the president pushed into the car, and then the camera pans and you see one man laying in a pool of blood.
At 13, I understood what was going on, but didn't want to believe that it could still happen. And while the initial news reports were that President Reagan wasn't seriously injured, you were still concerned. Then as later reports filtered in that he was much more injured than initially let on, I began to distrust the media. I think that was the beginning of my ultimate abandonment of the mainstream media as a reliable source for information whatsoever. They're usually about 10% right, and the rest they either twist the facts to fit their world view, or they just plain lie.
Anyway, I thought that today was a good day to be commorated, as one where the freedom of the Soviet bloc was almost stopped before it had started.
Godspeed Mr. President.
1 comment:
I remember it myself; what a momentous day. Shame the same thing never happened to his alter-ego Maggie Thatcher.
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