It has been said that an event can leave an indelibly etched mark in memory that you will recall, forever, in vivid detail, not only the event, but where you were and what you were doing at that time.
For millions of my generation it was Friday, Nov. 22, 1963, 12:30 in the afternoon.
"The president has been shot," yelled a wild-eyed coworker, bursting into our office. Bad joke, we thought. It wasn't. At 1 p.m., President John F. Kennedy was pronounced dead.
Within the hour, as the unbelievable news spread, offices, stores and every conceivable business shut their doors, sending numbed employees home, where they would remain for the next four days.
For three days, Saturday, Sunday and Monday, all of America sat in front of TV sets. President Kennedy's funeral was the first time that a funeral of a U.S. President was covered on live television, and the only time, to date, that all networks devoted four days of continuous coverage.
On the day of the funeral, Monday, Nov. 25, 1963, some 1 million people, young and old, lined the route of the funeral procession from the Capitol back to the White House, then to St. Matthew's Cathedral, and finally to Arlington National Cemetery.
I see today, just as I saw 46 years ago, the flag-draped coffin, resting on a black caisson, pulled by six horses.
Alongside them, a skittish, riderless black stallion, tacked with saddle, saber and boots set backward in stirrups, signifying a final ride, a warrior looking back at his troops for the final time.
Ken Gaidziunas is a staff writer for the Van Alstyne Leader and the Anna-Melissa Tribune.