Anyone alive that day and still with us remembers precisely where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news.

Though the term was not applied to the event at the time, it was indeed America’s first mass shooting.

One person lay dead, and nearly two hundred million were seriously wounded.

It was the end of an era.

It was the beginning of the end.

Nothing was ever the same afterward.

Life went on, but not the life that a thirteen-year-old had imagined.

Life was not perfect the day before, but any chance at a more perfect union bled out in Dallas on this day sixty years ago.

It wasn’t that President Kennedy was perfect, but he was inspirational to many despite his flaws.

Sister Margaret was our eighth-grade teacher in Blessed Sacrament, and I can still see the shock seemingly frozen onto her countenance when our Principal, Sister Irene Mary, announced that our President had been assassinated. It may have mirrored my own disbelief and that of my classmates.

When you’re in the eighth grade, you don’t necessarily understand the meaning of transformative events. But on this day in 1963, we all knew that America would never be the same.

We knew that hatred was the culprit responsible for killing our President even if we hadn’t fathomed how extensive this hatred permeated the country. The day before, we were still living in postwar America and had forgiven our enemies and the atrocities they had committed.

So, how could hatred have replaced forgiveness?

So, how can forgiveness be restored in a nation that loves to hate?

The wounds of November 22,1963, continue to fester and have been passed down in our nation’s DNA.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and many of us have so much for which we should be thankful. Maybe it’s time to celebrate Forgiveness Day and bring gifts of love and understanding in lieu of pumpkin pies and cranberry sauce?

It’s just a thought.