When I was in third grade, the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated. There was a lot that I didn’t grasp about the death of this extraordinary man, but I surely understood what a terrible injustice and loss this violence was for America and the world. Five days later, on April 9, 1968, his funeral was televised, and my teacher showed the all-day event to the class. I particularly recall the stoic elegance of his widow, Coretta Scott King, behind her black veil. I also remember refusing to go outside for lunchtime recess; I felt I had an obligation to stay inside and watch. Less than two months later, Robert F. Kennedy, who attended King’s funeral, would also be gone, taken by another assassin’s bullet.
Many years later, in December 1991, I was in Finland when the Soviet Union officially ended. I obviously wasn’t around for the birth of the USSR and the rise of world communism, but I had a chance to witness this end. I subsequently spent months in Moscow to learn what happens when one day you wake up and your country no longer exists. Those were strange and uncertain days—not only because a month’s salary now would barely buy a couple of Snickers bars—but because you would see how people’s lives were turned upside down: A former brain surgeon was dealing cards in a casino. A former schoolteacher was working as a prostitute. Security guards in camouflage fatigues and holding Kalashnikov rifles were standing outside newly opened stores and restaurants. Mothers lined Metro stations to sell most anything and collect a few rubles—a cup, a spoon, unopened silk stockings, a child’s doll. I knew then that most Russians yearned for a normal, stable life and the opportunity to live better.
Those are just two. There are many others that still linger for me. But what about you? What historical event in your lifetime has touched you most? And why? Given the unfolding horrors in Ukraine and the unpredictable consequences for Europe and the globe, this feels like a moment to pause and reflect on how world events can affect us personally. As always, this is a chance for this community to hear from and learn from each other.
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Photo: The procession bearing the coffin of Martin Luther King Jr in Atlanta, Georgia, April 9, 1968. Photo by Santi Visalli/Archive Photos/Getty Images.
In addition to the previously mentioned JFK assassination and the Beatles’ debut on Ed Sullivan (both milestones in my life) the anti-war protests in May 1970 had a delayed but powerful impact on me - though not until 40 years later. In 2010, as I walked through the Killing Fields in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, I was thrown back to the party atmosphere of those teenage protests, (I was 15, and just along for the music, the weed, and the girls) and I was utterly oblivious to their true meaning. It struck me decades later, when I fully realized their purpose and their import.
Mar 5, 2022·edited Mar 5, 2022Liked by Steven Beschloss
I was a junior in high school on November 22, 1963, in the government class taught by a much loved teacher we all called Ma Bacchus. Someone came into the class and handed her a note, at which point her face went totally white. Then she told us, trying not to cry too much. I have always believed that day marked the total loss of my innocence. Still painful.
I remember vividly, as a very small girl, sitting with my father as he listened to the radio when Hungary begged for American assistance as Russian tanks rolled in to occupy the country and the Iron Curtain fell. My father had no family ties to Hungary -- he was an Anglo-Saxon Canadian-American. He was not a political man. But he knew what this meant for the world. And I have never forgotten that moment -- those desperate requests for help from America. The family radio, the light from the lamp on his face as we listened. Would today's events in Ukraine not be happening had America stopped Russia's aggression then?
Without a doubt, watching The Beatles debut on the Ed Sullivan Show. I was young, only about four at the time, but I found it hugely electrifying and has stayed with me over the years. It still makes me smile. :-)
July 20th, 1969 remains a most wonderful memory, not only for our nation, but also for how it shaped young minds. It was a most amazing feat ever accomplished by mankind. The landing of humans on the moon.
I was seven and can still recall my heart was on the moon that night. When Neil Armstrong stepped onto the surface of the moon it was something akin to a miracle. So far away, and yet man was there!
I recall vividly Walter Cronkite reporting that story of what was about to happen, making it so real that even a boy could understand, and be awe-struck. In time, Cronkite would be as memorable a figure to me from that time as Armstrong.
The Apollo program and those brave men who journeyed to space on rockets of flame were my childhood heroes. But so was Cronkite, with his authoritative voice which allowed us all to be so informed. One of the things I still recall about Cronkite was that he seemed as excited as I was over the events. Later in life I would come to understand that he was!
There is less mystery and excitement–or so it seems to me–for kids today when it comes to the space program. But with so much technology in our homes and video games to dazzle, I suspect there are no kids these days pretending to be scientists aboard the space station. I strongly suspect no picnic tables are also serving as pretend ‘space capsules’.
Times have changed, but the real heroes of the space era must still be honored. With deep respect, I offer thanks to Neil Armstrong for all that he gave to mankind. And to Uncle Walter for bringing science and space into our homes with as much enthusiasm as we were feeling.
I was around for the assassinations of JFK, MLK and RFK, but too young (3 1/2, 8, and 8, respectively) to really understand them. Since then, the events that have had the biggest emotional impact on me were the Challenger explosion (1986), watching the fall of the Berlin Wall on live TV (1989) and, of course, 9/11.
I was a 10 year old living in Sweden with my family while my dad was on sabbatical. 1963 I remember standing in the school yard and one of my friends ran up to me distraught saying in swedish that "my king was dead", I remember replying "we don't have a king". Then she said "Kennedy". I'll never forget that and the news images I saw later
I'll also never forget the photos out of Vietnam especially My Lai.
I was young, I’m 86 now. FDR : This day will live in infamy. We had Uncles and cousins on Pearl Harbor. The entire family gathered to pray and cry. I remember like it was yesterday.
Mar 5, 2022·edited Mar 5, 2022Liked by Steven Beschloss
I have lived through so many of history's moments, read about most of them. I have 2 bins full of clippings about world events starting with the 1960s. But the first one I sort of witnessed and remember was the end of WW II & every incident/ occurrence surrounding it in my life at the time like it was yesterday.We lived in a rented house in small town Rixford, PA, my father teaching History in the combined high school with Duke Center. (Mother fought continually with our landlord as he stored potatoes in our cellar,& they stunk.A mind of her own and acting upon it, we had to take her to the doctor with a big stick in her lap, a nail through her finger. She didn't like dogs and tried to throw the stick at one in our yard.The dog won.) I had a little girlfriend,Polly, younger than I whose grandmother lived across the street in the biggest house in town and was the most financially well off, so no one said anything about her smoking,a most vulgar thing for a woman to do then. Polly stole 2 cigarettes;we tried them out behind a barn, buried the remains in a hole.She stole 2 more.We were in Gma's car pretending to drive when Gma came menacingly toward the car, and Polly hid the smokes under my leg. I alone got the blame, and Gma slapped my face, told my mother who then took to her bed crying, ashamed.Polly's parents who lived up the street, were not upset. All kids did that, they said, so our friendship continued. I was aware a war was going on through listening to my dad. A neighboring house had a gold star hanging in their window, their son killed. A granite stone sat near the post office (located in the mail person's home) and as boys were killed, their names were engraved on it. I traced a few with paper and a lump of dirt.
One day I was playing in the front yard of Polly's home. Terribly loud sirens began to blow; scared us to death. Then we saw people coming out of their houses yelling, clapping, dancing, banging on pots, blowing whistles, all smiles, all happy. We didn't know why, but we joined them. Polly's mother came out and told us the war had just ended. It was over. No more window stars.
My dad cried.
That just happened yesterday, didn't it. What is time?
What we are witnessing in Ukraine and bad events that will follow, all caused by just one man’s ego to be supreme emperor of a mythical kingdom he envisions. If not for Putin, both Russians and Ukrainians could have a good life in their own countries. Now, neither may be possible for a long time, if ever.
It was JFK assassination, I still remember the class I was in and we were let out of school early. The next was RFK killing because I was actually watching it happen live on TV, and I had to wake my sister that went to bed just fifteen minutes earlier……
I was born in the 1960s and I've seen so much tragedy that nothing surprises me any longer. Except, Sandy Hook. The targeting of innocents and the callous indifference by many Americans shocks me still to this day. Matthew Shephard's murder shook me into changing my viewpoint of gay rights and becoming an active supporter for the LGBT community. And finally, the Beatles breaking up was a tragedy my young heart has never gotten over.
The historical event that I never thought much of has effected me the most. The Civil War. I was adopted, and when you are adopted, the government takes away your history. I love history and found in my adult years I needed to get mine back. I was born and grew up around Boston, so I patted myself on the back like so many other northerners regarding the Civil War. Then I found out my biology, my DNA is all over the South, and I immediately began researching all I could about it. And sadly, the Civil War is still affecting me, as I see how our country has never processed it; fingers wag at each other; few are trying to heal, I realize there is so much work that needs to be done. So much is misunderstood, and so many rely on myths instead of primary documentation to learn about the Civil War. It is very sad that after so long there are those who want to divide us over a very complicated time.
The Democratic convention of 1968 was a blow to my political life. I had campaigned hard for Eugene McCarthy. Hubert Humphrey‘s nomination, and the violence that ensued in Chicago, made me lose all hope. It wasn’t until many, many years later that I again became actively involved in politics.
I was attending a calculus class in college when it was announced that President Kennedy had been shot and had died. I immediately went to the student union where I met with several of my friends. We decided, then and there, to drive to Washington, D.C. for Kennedy's funeral. I'll never forget those days.
In addition to the previously mentioned JFK assassination and the Beatles’ debut on Ed Sullivan (both milestones in my life) the anti-war protests in May 1970 had a delayed but powerful impact on me - though not until 40 years later. In 2010, as I walked through the Killing Fields in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, I was thrown back to the party atmosphere of those teenage protests, (I was 15, and just along for the music, the weed, and the girls) and I was utterly oblivious to their true meaning. It struck me decades later, when I fully realized their purpose and their import.
I was a junior in high school on November 22, 1963, in the government class taught by a much loved teacher we all called Ma Bacchus. Someone came into the class and handed her a note, at which point her face went totally white. Then she told us, trying not to cry too much. I have always believed that day marked the total loss of my innocence. Still painful.
I remember vividly, as a very small girl, sitting with my father as he listened to the radio when Hungary begged for American assistance as Russian tanks rolled in to occupy the country and the Iron Curtain fell. My father had no family ties to Hungary -- he was an Anglo-Saxon Canadian-American. He was not a political man. But he knew what this meant for the world. And I have never forgotten that moment -- those desperate requests for help from America. The family radio, the light from the lamp on his face as we listened. Would today's events in Ukraine not be happening had America stopped Russia's aggression then?
Without a doubt, watching The Beatles debut on the Ed Sullivan Show. I was young, only about four at the time, but I found it hugely electrifying and has stayed with me over the years. It still makes me smile. :-)
July 20th, 1969 remains a most wonderful memory, not only for our nation, but also for how it shaped young minds. It was a most amazing feat ever accomplished by mankind. The landing of humans on the moon.
I was seven and can still recall my heart was on the moon that night. When Neil Armstrong stepped onto the surface of the moon it was something akin to a miracle. So far away, and yet man was there!
I recall vividly Walter Cronkite reporting that story of what was about to happen, making it so real that even a boy could understand, and be awe-struck. In time, Cronkite would be as memorable a figure to me from that time as Armstrong.
The Apollo program and those brave men who journeyed to space on rockets of flame were my childhood heroes. But so was Cronkite, with his authoritative voice which allowed us all to be so informed. One of the things I still recall about Cronkite was that he seemed as excited as I was over the events. Later in life I would come to understand that he was!
There is less mystery and excitement–or so it seems to me–for kids today when it comes to the space program. But with so much technology in our homes and video games to dazzle, I suspect there are no kids these days pretending to be scientists aboard the space station. I strongly suspect no picnic tables are also serving as pretend ‘space capsules’.
Times have changed, but the real heroes of the space era must still be honored. With deep respect, I offer thanks to Neil Armstrong for all that he gave to mankind. And to Uncle Walter for bringing science and space into our homes with as much enthusiasm as we were feeling.
I was around for the assassinations of JFK, MLK and RFK, but too young (3 1/2, 8, and 8, respectively) to really understand them. Since then, the events that have had the biggest emotional impact on me were the Challenger explosion (1986), watching the fall of the Berlin Wall on live TV (1989) and, of course, 9/11.
Sputnik, Cuban Missile Crisis, assassination of President Kennedy, Challenger...
I was a 10 year old living in Sweden with my family while my dad was on sabbatical. 1963 I remember standing in the school yard and one of my friends ran up to me distraught saying in swedish that "my king was dead", I remember replying "we don't have a king". Then she said "Kennedy". I'll never forget that and the news images I saw later
I'll also never forget the photos out of Vietnam especially My Lai.
I was young, I’m 86 now. FDR : This day will live in infamy. We had Uncles and cousins on Pearl Harbor. The entire family gathered to pray and cry. I remember like it was yesterday.
I have lived through so many of history's moments, read about most of them. I have 2 bins full of clippings about world events starting with the 1960s. But the first one I sort of witnessed and remember was the end of WW II & every incident/ occurrence surrounding it in my life at the time like it was yesterday.We lived in a rented house in small town Rixford, PA, my father teaching History in the combined high school with Duke Center. (Mother fought continually with our landlord as he stored potatoes in our cellar,& they stunk.A mind of her own and acting upon it, we had to take her to the doctor with a big stick in her lap, a nail through her finger. She didn't like dogs and tried to throw the stick at one in our yard.The dog won.) I had a little girlfriend,Polly, younger than I whose grandmother lived across the street in the biggest house in town and was the most financially well off, so no one said anything about her smoking,a most vulgar thing for a woman to do then. Polly stole 2 cigarettes;we tried them out behind a barn, buried the remains in a hole.She stole 2 more.We were in Gma's car pretending to drive when Gma came menacingly toward the car, and Polly hid the smokes under my leg. I alone got the blame, and Gma slapped my face, told my mother who then took to her bed crying, ashamed.Polly's parents who lived up the street, were not upset. All kids did that, they said, so our friendship continued. I was aware a war was going on through listening to my dad. A neighboring house had a gold star hanging in their window, their son killed. A granite stone sat near the post office (located in the mail person's home) and as boys were killed, their names were engraved on it. I traced a few with paper and a lump of dirt.
One day I was playing in the front yard of Polly's home. Terribly loud sirens began to blow; scared us to death. Then we saw people coming out of their houses yelling, clapping, dancing, banging on pots, blowing whistles, all smiles, all happy. We didn't know why, but we joined them. Polly's mother came out and told us the war had just ended. It was over. No more window stars.
My dad cried.
That just happened yesterday, didn't it. What is time?
What we are witnessing in Ukraine and bad events that will follow, all caused by just one man’s ego to be supreme emperor of a mythical kingdom he envisions. If not for Putin, both Russians and Ukrainians could have a good life in their own countries. Now, neither may be possible for a long time, if ever.
The televised opening of the Gulf War was frighteningly hypnotic, but most affecting would have to be 911.
It was JFK assassination, I still remember the class I was in and we were let out of school early. The next was RFK killing because I was actually watching it happen live on TV, and I had to wake my sister that went to bed just fifteen minutes earlier……
Ditto!
I was born in the 1960s and I've seen so much tragedy that nothing surprises me any longer. Except, Sandy Hook. The targeting of innocents and the callous indifference by many Americans shocks me still to this day. Matthew Shephard's murder shook me into changing my viewpoint of gay rights and becoming an active supporter for the LGBT community. And finally, the Beatles breaking up was a tragedy my young heart has never gotten over.
JFK. I was in the fifth grade and they sent us home. My grandmother said, "I was afraid of this."
The historical event that I never thought much of has effected me the most. The Civil War. I was adopted, and when you are adopted, the government takes away your history. I love history and found in my adult years I needed to get mine back. I was born and grew up around Boston, so I patted myself on the back like so many other northerners regarding the Civil War. Then I found out my biology, my DNA is all over the South, and I immediately began researching all I could about it. And sadly, the Civil War is still affecting me, as I see how our country has never processed it; fingers wag at each other; few are trying to heal, I realize there is so much work that needs to be done. So much is misunderstood, and so many rely on myths instead of primary documentation to learn about the Civil War. It is very sad that after so long there are those who want to divide us over a very complicated time.
The Democratic convention of 1968 was a blow to my political life. I had campaigned hard for Eugene McCarthy. Hubert Humphrey‘s nomination, and the violence that ensued in Chicago, made me lose all hope. It wasn’t until many, many years later that I again became actively involved in politics.
I was attending a calculus class in college when it was announced that President Kennedy had been shot and had died. I immediately went to the student union where I met with several of my friends. We decided, then and there, to drive to Washington, D.C. for Kennedy's funeral. I'll never forget those days.