I am unable to tell you exactly where I was when I heard President John F. Kennedy had been shot. I think it might have been during chemistry class, but I don't really remember. I knw I was at school. I do remember that during the next break between periods, I acted unnaturally happy over something, and I was shushed by a few of the students near me in the hall.
But I can tell you exactly where I was when I heard Kinsey Stoneham was killed in a car crash. I was walking down the south side of Colgate Street with my good friend Danny walking beside me on my right. I was carrying my school books in my left hand tucked around them in traditional "cool" style, and it was approximately 7:05 am.
I never knew Kinsey Stoneham very well. None of us did. He was a classmate who died a month before JFK. None of us ever got to know him well, for he died early in the school year at his new school. Unlike Eleanor Rigby, Kinsey Stoneham was buried, but not along with his name.
I'll always remember where I was when I heard that Kinsey Stoneham died in a car crash.