For Presidents Day, here's a video taken from a 16mm film my dad made of John Kennedy's funeral here in DC. There's no sound. I was in 3rd Grade at the time ... it's cliche but it's true: I'll never forget that moment. It was recess and I was on the swing set. My teacher, Ms. Connor, came out onto a balcony overlooking the playground and asked us all to come inside. She was very serious and sad ... scary for a kid that age. I remember clearly scrapping my feet and halting the swing as quickly as I could: then getting in line quietly with the rest of my class as we climbed the steps into the darkened hall leading to our classroom. I'm not sure what happens at those moments ... the brain must have some sort of function where it can capture critical info even in retrograde and post it as IMPORTANT for future review. Certainly, no one knows instantly and for certain at the exact moment of impact that such things will come back to haunt. Anyway ... my dad caught this. A perspective you'll not see anywhere else, though not necessarily of any more import. Just another citizen journalist standing where no one else has stood, or could stand. It must be in the blood. I never noticed before, though, that the horse was so fractious.