My grandfather passed away several years ago, leaving behind a collection of newspapers he had saved over the years. Towards the bottom of one of the bundles was an old, yellowed Chicago Tribune from the day Kennedy was shot. You could have heard a pin drop when we came across that one.
As an aside, this thread keeps taking me back to another slain President and the words of Walt Whitman:
O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.