Flashbulb

Twenty years ago tomorrow, at about this time...

I was at recess in fifth grade. There was snow out in the field of the playground, so we were all on the blacktop, per school rules if we didn't have boots. (I always forgot my boots).

It was a sunny day. Cold, of course, since it was January.

Mrs. Arnold raised her arm, indicating that it was time to line back up to go in. We were confused-- there was no way that it was time to go in yet. She gathered us all around, and said that she knew it wasn't time to go in, but there was something important to tell us. The Challenger shuttle had just exploded.

We had a moment of silence. I stared at the blacktop at the shady outline of everyone's shoes from the sun. I smelled the grit of the asphalt. I heard the clink of the tetherball chains against their poles in the wind.




Every generation has one of these memories-- the FIRST flashbulb memory that connects us as a generation. JFK, 9/11...

This was mine.