I do not know if my family home was more or less Kennedy-saturated than the homes of other American families that were begun in the 1960s like ours: we had three JFK-memorial books and one LP recording of the late President delivering his speeches that had a glossy full-color portrait on the front of the sleeve and his inaugural address printed as a liner note on the back.
There were November 1963 issues of Life magazine boxed up—Life was the newsweekly that people kept and preserved and re-visited as if events had not happened until confirmed on the giant pages of that publication. (The media preferences I was exposed to when I was young stayed with me into adulthood: Life, not Look; Time, not Newsweek, NBC news, not CBS. To younger ears, I suppose all of that is akin to preferring Safari to Chrome.)
In all of those publications—memorial books and Life magazine alike—color is introduced with photos of the president’s inaugural and then re-visited in photos taken on the morning of November 22, 1963. Those photos remain almost painfully colorful—the bright silver of Air Force One at Love Field, the almost-cloudless blue sky, Mrs. Kennedy’s pink pillbox hat, even the president’s flesh tones—but black and white is re-introduced with the photos taken later that sad day.
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