In a classic scene from the 1989 comedy When Harry Met Sally, the titular Harry reveals that he once asked his ditsy girlfriend where she was when Kennedy was shot, to which she responded, “Ted Kennedy was shot?”
It is one of those golden-oldie cinema moments that never fail to make you laugh when you remember it at inappropriate moments. (Though I admit it maybe works better on screen than on paper.)
It highlights – and I suspect quite accurately – that many people are not nearly as in the loop with current affairs as we would instinctively imagine. The subject of the joke (the question, “where were you when __ died”) also intrigues me. Excluding Caroline Flack’s death (I was on the living room sofa, in the evening, following an episode of ITV’s Poirot), it’s a question I would be incapable of answering. I would remember my reaction to the news and possibly some opinions on their life, not my geographical coordinates. Nevertheless, it is touching to think that some public figures mean enough to people that their deaths would instil an irrevocable memory of the moment. John F. Kennedy is of course the principal example of the “where were you” question, though I have also heard it applied to Princess Diana.
This cinema skit and general musing on the legacy of high-profile figures were of course brought to my mind by the death of Queen Elizabeth II (I remember this one: dinner table, early evening, the night before leaving for university). Despite my generation’s often polarised opinions on the monarchy, few could deny the significance of Queen Elizabeth’s legacy. The appraisal of her as “a stable force in turbulent times” is perhaps well-founded. She was, after all, the common denominator uniting the Royal Family’s otherwise vastly different array of characters. And that is a valuable feat. I’ve been particularly close to the Queen – not figuratively but geographically – because I recently moved to Edinburgh and was, by chance, present for the Royal Mile display. The lesson I took away from it was a personal ‘note-to-self’ to always check the exact details of events. Upon my arrival, I was mildly surprised when the coffin-bearing car went down the Mile at a speed not uncommon among vehicles with blaring sirens, forcing the poised phone cameras to whip around in a swift 180-degree turn. The general ambience wasn’t so much “pay-your-respects” as “oh wow, that was it?” I only realised later that the real attraction was the day after, when the Queen’s car did in fact drive more slowly through the crowds. What I had witnessed the previous day was probably the driver’s understandably swift journey to the Queen’s evening accommodation. (The irony was that I was at a university Welcome Talk the day after and didn’t even see the real thing.)
Speaking of university, these few weeks are not just pivotal regarding monarchical history, but also in the lives of A-Level Class of 2022 (or Class of Covid, which arguably better reflects our more recent school experiences). Many of us now prepare to uproot our lives and move away to university/degree apprenticeships/gap years/paid work…I’m sure there are other cool options that I’m not aware of. This is in the aftermath of Results’ Day, which almost merits a whole article in itself. “Prepare for disappointment.” “Biggest ever drop in top grades.” “Education watchdogs warn of highest number of university rejections.” “Even the brightest students will struggle.” Those are a few charming samples of headlines prior to the day, which naturally did not overjoy those of us sitting at home only just recovering from post-exam fatigue. (A member of my family speculatively remarked, “whoever bluntly wrote ‘prepare for disappointment’ clearly doesn’t have children!”)
The headlines weren’t entirely wrong. They were very right in saying that it has been difficult times for school pupils, and some poor people definitely came out unfairly. Despite that (and I must stress I can only speak for Wymondham High), the ambience of the day was anything but the ‘disappointment’ we were subtly advised to prepare for. The significant majority did far better than they had thought and got into their top choice for next year. Even those dealt unfair hands were, to my knowledge, able to find solutions that didn’t differ much – if at all – from their original intentions. Either this is an unspoken truth among many schools or Wymondham High simply did spectacularly, but either way it speaks volumes on how phenomenal our local state school is.
The weeks between Results’ Day and the new academic year were wild. I’ve never been invited to so many consecutive parties in my life. Either everyone was having birthdays, or they simply fancied a blast. I confess to being useless at night parties with lots of music and occasional alcohol. I did nonetheless learn a lot of lessons they don’t teach you in school. One was not to interfere with the playlist if you don’t wish for the drunk wrath of your host. Another was that if you’re driving someone home in your parents’ car, intervene when they declare their intention to drink twenty nausea-inducing vodka shots!
However, with results now over, the original class who got their GCSEs cancelled by a pandemic have finally moved on from school. And despite the complicated loopholes of night-time raves, it feels pretty good.
(P.S. A huge benefit of contributing to Wymondham Magazine is feedback from regular supporters. Thank you very much to those who glance over my column, and especially to those who have contacted me afterwards. I feel privileged to play a small part in helping this magazine thrive. I’d particularly like to thank one girl from school – she knows who she is – who often texts me with her thoughts after reading. She is starting Year 10 now and is one of the nicest, most unpretentious, gifted people around. So in a tribute to you, thank you and good luck!)
