A nondescript pile of corrugated cardboard boxes was stacked in the corner, not unlike others scattered around the sixth floor of the old warehouse. Small but heavy, they were filled with school books. Just beyond them, a corner window offered a bird’s-eye view of the sweeping boulevard below.
Who could have imagined that this 5-foot-high wall of books concealed a sniper’s nest that would alter the course of world history on Nov. 22, 1963?
I stood transfixed in front of the boxes, my mind racing back to that day as an 11-year-old more than six decades ago. I was old enough to sense the gravity in my fifth-grade teacher Mrs. Rathert’s voice at Frank Allis School as she fought through emotion to tell us that President Kennedy had been assassinated — a word most of us had never heard before.
My recent visit to The Sixth Floor Museum at Dealey Plaza took me back in time. In many ways, the experience brought a sense of closure, bridging the gap between childhood curiosity and adult reflection. It reminded me that one singular moment not only changed history but also quietly shaped the direction of my own life.
That’s what museums do!
Before arriving in Dallas, I wondered what these exhibits might mean to someone who had not lived through that day. Yet as we moved through the museum galleries, hundreds of visitors — most born long after 1963 — walked slowly from exhibit to exhibit with the same fascination and curiosity. They had come from across America and around the world. They came to understand. They came to learn. They came to feel connected to history.
That’s why museums matter.
President Kennedy was a remarkably popular president even though he won one of the closest elections in American history, edging Richard Nixon by just 0.17 percent of the popular vote in 1960. At the height of his presidency, his approval rating climbed above 80 percent.
The museum tells the story of the assassination and the subsequent killing of the lone suspect, Lee Harvey Oswald. But it also paints a broader portrait of America in the early 1960s — the Cold War tensions, the civil rights struggles, the optimism of the space race, and the growing divisions within the country itself.
Museums allow us to revisit history through the lens of today. Looking out that sixth-floor window, it was impossible not to ask modern questions. How could a gunman remain unnoticed in the building? How did he calmly leave moments after the shooting? How did journalists and even another killer gain such easy access to the Dallas Police Department only two days later?
On the museum’s seventh floor, my own story unfolded through exhibits chronicling how the media covered those three unforgettable days in Dallas. The somber words of Walter Cronkite from New York. The street reporting from journalists who would later become household names — Dan Rather, Robert MacNeil, Jim Lehrer, and many others.
As a fifth grader, I became captivated by the very idea of reporting the news. Just a few years later, I would be slinging a Nikon F into the front lines of anti-war protests. Much of that fascination was fueled by the live television coverage from Dallas and by one photograph in particular — Bob Jackson’s Pulitzer-winning image of Jack Ruby shooting Oswald.
Standing in front of Jackson’s actual Nikon S3 rangefinder camera and flash unit — knowing he had just one chance to capture that split-second moment — left me spellbound.
I’ve always believed that history is the roadmap to the future. We need to know where we’ve been.
You don’t have to travel to Dallas to experience that feeling. This summer, step into a museum somewhere and allow yourself to be absorbed into the stories of the past. You may come away understanding history a little better. You may even learn something about yourself, as well.
Details
This isn’t your typical Sunday Drive. But if you find yourself in Dallas, the Sixth Floor Museum is a remarkable modern-day interpretive center for one of the world’s most captivating moments in time. Its website at jfk.org also offers a wealth of information.
Park City Museum — On historic Main Street, it takes you back in time to the silver boom and documents the evolution of our hometown.
Alf Engen Ski Museum — Imagine yourself soaring through the air in the spirit of Alf! Located at the Utah Olympic Park, the museum walks you through the story of skiing and snowboarding in Utah.
George S. Eccles 2002 Olympic & Paralympic Museum — Upstairs from the Alf Engen Museum, it documents the remarkable 2002 Winter Games.
Museum of Utah — Watch for the amazing new Museum of Utah, opening this summer on the grounds of the State Capitol.
Every community along the Wasatch Front and Back has stories worth preserving. Go discover one.