I was in the eighth grade at Audubon Junior High School in Los Angeles. It was a Friday, and a special sports day. The upper eighth grade class was playing the lower eighth grade class in a football game on the asphalt of the playground. I wasn't much of an athlete, and certainly not much of a football player, and I was watching from the sidelines. Willie Deckard, with whom I was in gym class and with whom I could almost keep up when running long distances (and who later almost made the U.S. Olympic Team in the 100 meter dash, but didn't) scored a touchdown on a long run (perhaps an interception) for our team.
A friend, Roger Lipkis, found me with what was then still a rumor. It wasn't an easy sort of thing to believe. Both of us worked with the school Public Address system, and we went to the main office to be available for turning the machine on for a message that would be piped to each classroom. And of course there was a message.
School let out early that day. I suppose that buses were called for an earlier hour, because ordinarily they wouldn't have come to the school then. I seem to remember that it was very quiet on the bus, though perhaps that's a projection on my part. It's hard to picture a bus full of junior high school students, stunned as they might be, sitting quietly. I recall at least one classmate suggesting the possibility of a Communist Plot.
I don't remember which class won the game. I think it was my class, because I have a recollection of someone remarking that "we won" to which a friend responded that everybody lost. I recall relating to that, even then, as both somewhat profound, and yet much too theatrical.