In The U.S. – When President Kennedy Was Assassinated

Rev. G. Van Groningen. Trowel & Sword. Jan/Feb 1964

Preamble: Occasionally an event occurs so momentous that most people remember where they were and what they were doing when they first heard the news. The assassination of President John F. Kennedy was such an event. Aside from the obvious ramifications of the event itself, Pieter made the following observations regarding this article:
“I found this article fascinating for 2 main reasons:
1. The way the VG family responded to the tragedy under the leadership of dad but with the willing response of the children. How do we as families deal with the amazing chaos of this world in a Christlike manner and what does this say to our children – positively and negatively?”
2. The other response which I thought was fascinating was the description of what was happening in the culture/society around them – including the media. Compare that with today and the hysteria and orchestrated blame and fury that accompanies events both serious and trivial.”

Friday, November 22, 1963.

Grandmother had come at 2.15 to baby sit. Mrs. Van Groningen had a speaking engagement with a senior ladies Bible study group at 2.30. I had an appointment with Mr. Schultze, publicity chairman for the Board of Foreign Missions. We were to review a slide-tape programme we had prepared some 3 1/2 years previously. I had dropped Mrs. Van Groningen off at her appointed place; I walked into the Mission Board headquarters and glanced at the clock: 2.53 “well on time”.
“Hello Bill”.
“Have you heard that President Kennedy died?’
“What????”
“Haven’t you heard that he was shot a little while ago?”
“Shot?? Where? by whom? why?”
“We just heard it over the radio a few minutes ago, as he was riding through Dallas a sniper shot him and Conally, Texas’ governor, is badly wounded.”
“Really????” A shake of the head solemnly nodded a strong affirmative.
“The president is assassinated”.

A shiver iced up and down my spine. A strange numb sensation swept through my chest, vibrating strangely in the area of my heart. All the office personnel were gathered around a little office radio. There was just no doubt about it! President Kennedy was dead – felled by a bullet fired by someone on American soil. How was it possible!!! We went about our work – reviewing the programme prepared some years before, but our minds were in Texas. Our hearts were in Washington, in the White House, with the nation, with the fatherless children and the young widow.

At 4.30 I picked up Mrs. Van Groningen. Her meeting had been a sort of a failure. How could ladies keep their minds on Australian details of church work, the mother’s part, when tragedy, read of in history books, was suddenly blared over the nation as “news of today!”
As the broadcasting corporations and local stations quickly cancelled all commercial announcements and stood ready to report the latest news, the announcers began to give notice of cancelled meetings. How could a nation play and watch football and basketball games while it stood stunned, shaking its head in unbelief at the tragedy just happened? How could High School dramatists try to amuse audiences when people were grieving and weeping? How could choirs sing joyously when moans and groans of sorrow burst forth from a nation?

New meetings were suddenly scheduled. “At 8 p.m. there will be a special prayer meeting in the Godwin Heights Christian Reformed Church”. Yes, indeed, it was time to pray, to confess our tragic national, communal and personal sins. It was time to cast ourselves individually and communally before the throne of grace and plead for mercy, forgiveness and the fullness of the Spirit.
We remained glued to our radios and T.V. sets. It was a fact! Kennedy was dead!
The blues singers were too blue to sing. The jazz boys were too confused to strum their strings. The dancers were too much in a whirl to go through their motions. It was relieving to have our radios refrain from pushing unwelcome songs, ditties and tunes into our rooms. We had a silent supper. Then we read from God’s Word. And then we prayed. Each one of us prayed, 3 year old David prayed also. He prayed for his fellow 3 year old American who suddenly had become fatherless. Six rear old Beverly prayed for her 6 year old unknown friend Caroline who had lost her father. One of the boys prayed for Mrs. Tippit. Another for the killer. Still another for the widow of the president, and then we all prayed for our nation.

Friday evening, 8 p.m. the Van Groningen family was scheduled to give an Australian programme in the Brookside Chr. Ref. church, some 3 miles south of Grand Rapids. Would this meeting be cancelled also?
At 7.30 the telephone rang. Mr. Davis, chairman of the programme for the evening, was calling to say that the meeting would not be postponed unless I insisted. Mr. Davis was relieved to hear that we preferred to go on with the programme. We agreed we would have a special prayer meeting the first half hour of the meeting.
That night the skies wept also. Torrents of rain swept down house roofs, drains and ditches. But, after we had prayed, we were able to concentrate on presenting the work of the Church of the Lord in Australia.

November 23.

Saturday was a strange day! Radios had no music other than national anthems and hymns. The only stories heard came from Dallas, Washington or from the various capitols of the world.

November 24.

Sunday the nation was quiet. Many people worshipped the Lord in their churches. Those who did not worship thus were subdued.
The radios announced that all schools were to be closed on Monday. All banks and department stores also from 12-2 o’clock. Many firms would close for half a day. All in tribute to President Kennedy – the fallen leader who was to be buried the next day.
The church services were conducted with a conscious need to confess sin and to plead for grace. Many ministers had made a new sermon after Friday 3 p.m. These men felt the need to preach judgment and mercy in a specific context that day.
Early afternoon: “Bulletin’ Bulletin!!” “What now?” Another tragedy!
The apprehended man, to be charged with assassination, lay dead in the very hospital where the president had died! How was it possible?!! In a few hours the T.V. films re-ran in slow motion the scene of Oswald’s murder. The nation looked on in horror and writhed! Was this the free United States? Yes, it was possible to be shot down in cold blood in the midst of law officers. Who – who is secure in this life? Is there no protection or safety among men anymore at all?

November 25 – mourning Monday.

A strangely quiet morning it was. From early morning folk sat before their T.V. sets or before their radios. The freeways were all but deserted. The streets were strangely quiet. No children went off to school that morning. People sat watching the happenings in Washington.
And when the funeral procession began from the Rotunda to the White House and on to the cathedral, people wept unashamedly. All admired the brave young widow marching in the procession. She seemed indeed to possess the grace and strength of the Lord. Could a Roman Catholic also experience the real comfort of the Lord in the hours of grief and women, and tragedy?? Tight lips, lumps in throats, glistening mists in eyes – so men and women, teenagers and children sat in in front of their T.V. sets and radios.
Yes, the President was dead!; buried!; gone!
At one o’clock I took my 4 oldest sons along to a special prayer service in one of the Chr. Ref. churches. The church was packed. The Scriptures were read. There we prayed. The Word of God was also proclaimed. “All flesh is as grass!  The Word of God abides.”

How grateful we were, and still are, for a Sovereign Lord and Master enthroned on High, who holding all nations in His hand will never be dethroned, felled by a bullet, overthrown by a coup.

G. van Groningen

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