I was a young officer in the United States Air Force, on that day, working in my green office, at my green desk, with a radio on another green desk, not too far away, in our series of semi-trailer vans that made up our radar unit. This was a Radar Bomb Scoring detachment, part of the Strategic Air Command. Our location was a mesa west of and above St. George, Utah. We had earlier (a couple of months) moved from another Mesa located west of Winslow, Arizona. We had two officers and 25-30 enlisted men in our detachment. [I also had a wife and young daughter, at our home, in town]
The only really clear memory is standing around that radio, shocked to hear of the assassination attempt, and awaiting the (unbelievable, but nearly inevitable) news of Kennedy's death. The rest is a blur. Shock always is.
Families are Forever! ;-)