by Charly Mann
Chapel Hill in the early 1960s was an intellectually stimulating and exciting place for me to spend my last two years of adolescence and my first year as a teenager. I felt I was part of the new generation that President Kennedy had talked about in his 1961 inaugural address when he said, "The torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans.... [who are] unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this Nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world."

President Kennedy at Kenan Stadium October 12, 1961
On November 22nd ,1963 I was 13 and in the eighth grade. I had returned home early for Thanksgiving break from a private school I was attending in Asheville because my views on civil rights led to me being bullied by a large group of upper classmen at the school. On that Friday at about 12:30 I walked up to Kemps Record Store from my house, which was about four miles away. Sometime around 1:30 someone came into the store and said the President was dead. In many ways the world has not been the same since those words were spoken. Not only was one man's life cut short, but the optimism and hope of an entire generation was extinguished. For the next ten minutes the few customers in Kemp's were silent until someone turned on a radio, and it was confirmed that the President had been assassinated. I walked out of the store a little numb and not knowing what to do next.

A crowd gathers in hushed silence to listen to news about the Kennedy assassination in front of Harry's in Chapel Hill about 2 PM on November 22, 1963
I was first in dismay, then shock, and it took me many hours to come to terms with this terrible news. I remember the first thing I thought when I got out onto the downtown sidewalk was that his successor would be the vice-president. I tried to remember his full name, and recalled it was Lyndon Baines Johnson. I immediately thought that from now on everyone would use the letters LBJ when talking about him like they had used the initials JFK for John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

Shock and sorrow as news about Kennedy's death reaches Chapel Hill
A few minutes later a bell at South Building began ringing. Soon after that the bells at the Bell Tower began tolling a mournful sound that sent chills down my spine. I walked solemnly through the campus to the Scuttlebutt to buy a large 5 cent root beer. I then walked back to Franklin Street. Everything in town was quiet except for the bell tower tolling in the distance, and there was little activity on campus or the sidewalks of downtown. In front of the Post Office I noticed that the flag had already been lowered to half mast. As I walked down the block I saw small crowds of people standing at the entry to many stores watching black-and-white televisions that had been placed near the front.

A UNC Chapel Hill student contemplates the death of President Kennedy on the afternoon of November 22, 1963
I remember that as I walked by Huggins Hardware they had a radio on, and an announcement was made by the broadcaster that the UNC-Duke football game kickoff would be on Saturday at 1 PM. I could not believe someone was even talking about football. (The next day the Presidents of UNC and Duke agreed to postpone the game until the following week.) I recognized one of my Dad's students in front of Sloan's Drug Store, and he said that most of the people who were downtown had come to see the annual BEAT DUKE Parade, but that it had just been canceled.
As I returned home through campus at about 4:30 PM, I could hear a bugler blowing taps somewhere in the distance. One queer thing I will always remember is that I did not see a single car driving on Raleigh Street, Cameron Avenue, Country Club Road, or Gimghoul on my walk home, and this was late on a Friday afternoon when most people would usually be coming home from work.

Flag lowering in Polk Place soon after death of President Kennedy is announced
In the somber quiet of the afternoon, I thought back to President Kennedy's visit to Chapel Hill almost two years earlier on October 12, 1961 and how I had thought then how easy it would have been for someone to kill the President.

A man leans in sorrow beside a tree on the UNC campus after hearing the news of President Kennedy's death
When I got home and told my father how quiet the campus and town had been he told me that all afternoon and evening classes at the University had been canceled, as well as classes scheduled for Saturday morning.

UNC cadets prepare to lower the flag on UNC campus to half mast shortly after death of President Kennedy is announced
One more thing I remember about that time was that a performance by the New Christy Minstrels, then one of the most popular singing groups in America, scheduled for Saturday night at Memorial Hall was canceled.

What is it that binds us to this place as to no other? It is not the well or the bell or the stone walls. or the crisp October nights. No, our love for this place is based upon the fact that it is as it was meant to be, The University of the People.



I vividly remember this day in Chapel Hill too. My memories are terrible too.
I was in the 7th grade at Guy B. Phillips Junior High. We were all brought into the double room and the television was on. In black and white Walter Conkrite told us step by step what was going on and how the Vice President and the First Lady got on the airplane and how Lyndon B. Johnson was now the President. The whole school was silent as we listened to this news.
We were all just exactly the age to feel that we knew President Kennedy. We had seen him at the inauguration. He'd challenged us to not ask what our country could do for us, but rather to ask ourselves what we could do for our country. At school, it had been President Kennedy who had gotten us to do the 50 yard dash. He was so handsome, his wife was so beautiful and his children were so cute. He was ours. He was young and seemingly fit. Our country was attacked when he was attacked. We were frightened. Something broke in all of us. I could just feel it though no one spoke.
My mother picked me up in front of the school. We drove in silence to our little rented house on Pittsboro Street. I watched out the window of the car. We went home.
I sat in the front of the house and watched as convertible cars filled with college kids came roaring by the house. They had confederate flags waving. They'd made signs on sheets and In huge letters they had painted "Yay! Kennedy's Dead!!!!" They were honking their horns and shouting and sounded drunk with happiness.
This went on for about a half hour - maybe more - maybe less. When they stopped and the town was quiet I went to bed. It was still light out.
Even at that age I usually had a very difficult time falling asleep. My parents were refugees from Nazi Austria. I had horrible images in my head whenever I laid down to sleep.
But on the day that Kennedy was shot I went straight to sleep and did not wake up until very late the next day.