Today marks the 50th anniversary of the death of President John F. Kennedy, the youngest man ever elected to the office and the youngest president to die. His tragic assassination has left a lasting mark on our nation. Those old enough to remember the event can recall where they were and what they were doing when they got the news that Kennedy had been shot.
I was six years old on November 22, 1963. I was sitting in a school room with my first grade classmates when our principle came into the room to tell his wife, our teacher, the horrible news. Mr. Westerfield was the strong, silent type. I knew that something was terribly wrong when I saw how upset he was. Only later would I better understand the magnitude of President Kennedy’s death and the consequences it brought to so many people.
I don’t remember where I was or what I was doing when I first heard that Jesus died. Since that time, I have gradually come to a better understanding of what his death meant, and how it still affects people to this very day.
“And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.”—Luke 22:19-20.