‘Where were you 50 years ago today?’

Date remains firmly etched in the memories of most North Americans

On Friday of last week I must have been asked this question at least three or four times, both in Sydney and in North Sydney. And for those of us of a certain age, at least older than 50, it was certainly a valid question to ask. For the events that took place on that particular day, also a Friday, have assumed a legendary status, at least for most people in the United States and Canada.

On Nov. 22, 1963, I was in my final year of studies for a Bachelor of Arts Degree at St. Francis Xavier University in Antigonish. I had previously attended Xavier Junior College (X.J.C) in Sydney, which was located in the former Lyceum Theatre on George Street, and was now completing my second year of studies at St. FX, on the mainland. (At that time you could take your first two years of university studies in Sydney, and then transfer to St. FX, or any other university in the province, to complete your undergraduate degree.)

On that particular day, which remains vividly etched in my mind, I had my last class early in the afternoon. If I recall correctly, it was a second-year Gaelic class taught by Major C.I.N. MacLeod, from Scotland. A Gaelicspeaking native of the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides, and a renowned Gaelic scholar and poet, he had moved to Antigonish in 1958, to accept a position as director of the Celtic Studies Department at the university

Although Major MacLeod’s courses in Celtic History and Celtic Literature usually had 30 or 40 students in each class, there were only three students in that second-year Gaelic class, and all three of us were from Cape Breton: Lynden MacIntyre from Port Hastings; Angus Beaton from Mabou; and myself from North Sydney.

Angus and I would go on to become school teachers in our respective home towns, while Lynden would go on to make a name for himself as a reporter with The Halifax Chronicle-Herald, and later with The Financial Times of Canada. In 1982 he joined CBC television as an investigative journalist, and in 1990 became co-host of the popular television program The Fifth Estate. In 2009 his novel "The Bishop’s Man" received the nationally acclaimed Scotiabank Giller Prize.

By 3:30 that afternoon I was standing on the shoulder of the Trans-Canada Highway, just on the outskirts of Antigonish town. It was a cool, overcast day, and along with two other students I was hitchhiking to Cape Breton for the weekend. We were only there a few minutes when a car stopped to offer us a ride, which I declined with thanks.

That car, which was heading to Newfoundland, was planning to take the newly opened Trans-Canada Highway through Whycocomagh and Baddeck, on the way to the ferry terminal in North Sydney. I, on the other hand, was not heading home. Instead, I was hoping to get a ride to the little village of Johnstown, located on Route 4, between St. Peter’s and Big Pond. It was my plan to spend the weekend with my granduncle Monsignor Ronald MacLean, who was parish priest at Sacred Heart Parish, the local Catholic Church.

I only had to wait about five minutes, when a very large truck stopped, and offered me a lift. He said that he was heading for Sydney and Glace Bay, by way of St. Peter’s. As I got in the cab, he asked if I had heard the news. When I replied that I had not, he told me that President Kennedy had been shot and killed, while on tour in Dallas, Texas.

Fifty years ago. Where did that time go.