Winter of ’63

I remember it well- ’63.
Winter vacation was there just for me.
Excitements abound,
We’re holiday bound.
Nothing could ruin my time off, you see.

It was holiday, ’63.
Seven years old when this happened to me.
All my cartoon shows
Were interrupted, then slow
The riderless horse and caisson I’d see.

Who can forget the veil and the black,
The kiss, salute for dead jack?
That time nothing was on
Except what has become
The event that knocked us off the track.

It was innocence, ’63.
I was unaware, to its fullest degree.
All that I knew
Was my entertainment was through.
Something happened so dreadfully.

We look back on november, ’63.
For a nation and family we grieve.
After the smile and the wave,
Hope was then blown away.
Of this, we still cannot believe.

The same age as Caroline was I.
I think of her question as “Why?”
What I missed was a show.
What she missed was the whole.
Her future with Daddy did die.

The irony here – it’s this way,
As I recount that horrific day.
While disgusted I got,
That my shows lost their spot.
I should have stayed in then to pray.