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JFK sketch by Bernie Fuchs |
I was in fourth grade in Effingham, and my teacher, a kindly
older woman, sent me down the hall to the principal's office to see if the
president was going to survive. The principal just looked at me and said,
"He's dead." It was a long walk back to the classroom, and I stood in
the door and told them.
The kids in the room burst in to tears and sobs, all except for
a boy who sat in the back, whose parents were rabid Republicans. He laughed and
cheered.
The teacher walked slowly to the back of the room and gave his
face a full, ringing slap.
Then he cried.
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