By Adrian []

I was 8 years old . We had just arrived in Sydney, Australia by boat from England as migrants. "10 Pound Poms", we were known as back then because that was the amount in English money that my parents paid for their transport out. It was a special deal between the two Governments as the Australian Government wanted to attract English migrants to their shores.

We were staying in a guest house at Mosman overlooking Sydney Harbour (now an extremely expense part of Sydney), and I had befriended this very nice young American man. I remember a bright sunny day and I had met him as he got off the ferry at the nearby jetty.

We were chatting happily on the way back to the Guest House. I wanted to talk during the News in the communal lounge room.

And then that Newsbreak:   "Kennedy Assassinated"!

It didn't mean anything to me as young as I was. But I was acutely aware of the deep shock on everyone's faces - and especially that on the young American's. He was as white as a ghost! That memory has stayed with me these last forty years.

The Day that Kennedy died...

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