President John F Kennedy was assassinated on my birthday when I was in sixth grade. That created four days of indelible memories, glued to our black & white TV set watching every event unfold in near-real time. My aunt from Dallas was visiting us that weekend. Embarrassed that she was from Dallas, my visiting removed her luggage tags. Kennedy was the first president of whom I was aware. What was most significant to me, at the time, was that his two children nearly my age. I was fascinated that they lived in the white house. Ever since I've followed Caroline and John-John as contemporaries living in a parallel world.
In relatively short order Bobby Kennedy and MLK were assassinated punctuating my high school years.
It's impossible for me not to recall those four days every year on this date.