Francesca Simon
JFK Narrative
October 29, 2019
It was early in the morning that cold Friday in November of 1963 in Findland Ohio when 20-year -old Georgeann Simon was walking up to the 5 story brick RCA factory where she was working. She was in a better mood than usual because it was a Friday. She had one more shift to get through until it was the weekend and she couldn’t wait to spend some one-on one-time with her new 1 year old baby named John, after her husband.
She walked into the building and found her seat in the long aisles that spread out throughout the factory. She immediately started to work on the transition switch she had been working hard on all week, hoping that the day would go by faster if she lost herself in her job. By one o’clock, she had successfully put one transition switch together and was about to start on the next one, when she heard the little beep the loud speaker makes before someone makes an announcement.
She was hoping they were going to announce free donuts in the breakroom again. Everyone stopped to what the person on the loud speaker was going to say.
“I regret to inform you that our president, John F. Kennedy has been shot and killed in Dallas, Texas this afternoon,” the mans voice said.
In that moment, the upwards of 100 people in the factory froze. It was as if someone pressed a pause button, no one moved a muscle or said anything. The factory was so quiet, Georgeann felt as if she could hear the rapid heart beat of the person sitting right next to her. Georgeann kept her eyes glued on the transition switch in front of her, waiting for someone to break the agonizing silence.
As she slowly lifted up her head, she saw the young man sitting across from her wipe a tear from his eye with the cuff of his shirt. As she looked around the room, it seemed everyone was crying in the factory, including her. There were no details given, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the president was dead, a man who was extremely popular and well liked by his country who had lost his life at 46 years-old.
With only two hours left in her shift, Georgeann was in a daze for the rest of the day. She couldn’t leave work early because she wouldn’t get paid for the full day. She had a new baby at home she needed to support, but it was hard for her to focus on her work. Time moved slowly. Every minute that passed seemed like an hour, she kept hearing the same words by co-workers: “I need to go home and watch the news”. There was no television in the factory. People could only listen to the radio. All they knew was someone had shot JFK. All they knew was that their president was dead.
As soon as the clock hit 3, everyone who worked the morning shift gathered their belongings and left in silence. She kept her head down and walked quickly to the bus station so she could finally go home. Georgeann felt as if she was in a daze and in a dream. Her heart felt heavy looking out the window on her way home. It took about 12 minutes from the bus stop to her one story, small white house. When she arrived home, she rushed passed her mother-in-law Gene who was watching her newborn and went into the family room where the television was. Her husband John was working until 10 at Bell in Corporate right down the street. There was a clothing hanger working as an antenna. She clicked the side button until she got to channel 5, turned up the volume, and sat down on her couch.
The first image she saw on the television was film footage of people laying on the ground at the plaza in Dallas minutes after the shooting trying to protect themselves from a gunman. Hundreds of people were sent into a complete panic at the first sound of the gun shot. Police officers were scrambling to contain the crowd.
Walter Cronkite came on the screen. “From Dallas, Texas, the flash apparently official President Kennedy died at 1 p.m. central standard time” he said while talking his glasses off. Cronkite looked distraught as he shuffled through his papers and repeatedly look his glasses on and off. Gene entered the room and stood by the doorway and saw Georgeann shed a tear, “You okay?” she said in a low voice. “I will be” said Georgeann.
As Georgeann laid in bed that night, she stared at the ceiling trying to fall asleep. She was still trying to process everything that had happened that day, but every time she closed her eyes all she could see was Walter Cronkite announcing that the president was dead. She couldn’t understand how anyone in their right mind would want to hurt such a kind, down to earth individual. Even though her husband John was fast asleep right next to her, she felt completely alone.
The day of the funeral, Georgeann could not watch the live broadcast because she was at work. She made sure to tell John to grab a copy of the paper so she could read it once she got home. The photo on the cover of the paper was John F. Kennedy’s son, John F. Kennedy junior saluting his fathers casket surrounded by hundreds and thousands of people. Having a brand new baby boy, this image struck Georgeann and she couldn’t imagine her baby John losing his father at such a young age. She sat there and stared at the picture, and that day she didn’t even read the newspaper. The image struck a chord with her, and she couldn’t bring herself to read the paper until the following week.
To this day, Georgeann still keeps that newspaper at her home underneath her bed. She keeps it there to remind herself that life is short, and anything can happen to anyone at any time. She will always remember JFK as an honorable man who inspired millions and would have done anything for his country. She is proud that her first born son shares the same name as such a reputable man.
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