It was the day I learned that the so-called “grownups” didn’t have jackshit under control.
I mean, I had suspected it, based on anecdotal evidence. But now, I knew: we had to make our own way, our own choices.
It was Friday afternoon, 58 years ago. I was in junior high. Saturday, we were all going to the custom car show in the Coliseum on Columbus Circle. Henry the Good Humor Guy worked security at the Coliseum on weekends; he’d let us scoot in the side door, so we never had to pay.
The news spread fast that Friday, and the teachers were crying. I couldn’t fg believe it. All the beer joints had Daily News photos of JFK taped to the mirrors behind the bar. Now, that guy, the guy on our campaign buttons, the guy who got us little-kid Bronx morons interested in politics, was dead. WTAF?
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![How Jack Ruby got away with murder in the shooting of JFK's assassin [Opinion]](https://s.hdnux.com/photos/75/76/57/16247750/5/rawImage.jpg)