The Judson Journal

15 APRIL 2010 (65.2) Article by Aaron Domenico
This is the inaugural edition of the Judson Journal’s online publication. For those of you who have been devoted readers, the Journal will continue to be your, “Link to the Past”, as you witness “The Old Neighborhood” living on in Cyberspace. All of you new readers that join us will also experience the incredible journey of stepping back in time when Swamp Poodle was indeed a great place to live.
“What Were You Doing On November 22, 1963?”
Fr. Mike Callaghan, C.M. wrote a letter to the Journal that appeared in the July 15, 2007 edition in the “Past & Present” section. In this letter, Fr. Callaghan proposed a few interesting challenges to the Judson Journal readers. One of the challenges was in the form of a question, “Where were you when Kennedy was assassinated?” Well! Fr. Callaghan it has taken me a long time to follow up on your challenge, but I now feel it is appropriate to use your suggestion and make it the new format for the Judson Journal. This new improved format will commence by proposing a question followed by a brief story of my recollection of that historical date, local incident, or an experience that occurred. The goal is that each story will stimulate the readers to click on and type in comments for everyone to enjoy.
November 22, 1963
I cannot say that my day began as it usually did for the past nineteen years of my life, because just a week prior my life changed completely. The former Pat Gallagher and I were married at Corpus Christi Church on Allegheny Avenue. Fr. Dowling performed the ceremony and after a dinner celebration at The Pub next to the Bowlerdrome, my beautiful young bride and I went to our apartment only a few blocks away at 33rd and Allegheny. Needless to say this Friday morning was not only different because of the terrible tragedy that loomed, but also because I was a husband for just one week. I remember that it was a sunny day, even on the warm side for late November and I was early to arrive at Franklin College of Science and Arts near 22nd and Walnut Streets. I arrived early before my classes to participate in a paid toothpaste-testing project that was conducted every Friday morning at 7am. Jim Contino and I, a fellow classmate from the Pittsburg area who was the Dance Chairman were having a cigarette and discussing the dance to be held Saturday at Franklin. Ernie Gallo, Joe Commentucci, Bob Gatto and I were providing the entertainment for the dance. After having our cigarette, we proceeded to our four hour Parasitology Laboratory and I recall somewhere around 10:30 am Dr. Pollan our professor was called to the hallway by Dean Zamos. Returning to the laboratory, Dr. Pollan looked as though he was crying. He composed himself and gave us the news that President Kennedy had been shot. The initial shock from a tragedy of that magnitude seems surreal, but once reality set in no one could ever forget “where they were or what they were doing at that moment.” School was dismissed and when I walk out onto Walnut Street, there was an eerie silence. There were no buses moving, all cars were stopped, a line almost a block long had formed at the telephone booth across from the school and I immediately thought of Pat at the apartment crying alone. We all idolized JFK, as he was the sole man that represented a change that our generation needed and cherished. History will never write the story of how his leadership would have affected our world, but his death gave us a sense of loss that took us years to overcome. I walked from 22nd & Walnut to Broad and Walnut to take the subway, because it was the only form of public transportation available, and then walked from Broad and Allegheny to our apartment at 33rd and Allegheny. I did find my Pat attached to the TV with tears crying and very sad, yet just the two of us being together, seemed to make the tragedy somehow bearable.