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A very, very loud noise. I had turned a bunch of silver knobs to the right until they wouldn't turn anymore, then pressed a bunch of buttons. One of the buttons resulted in a unbearable noise and my father dashing into the room from the back of the house. I remember Dad quickly hitting a button to make the room quiet, again, and then promptly moving me away from the stereo cabinet to another part of the room.
He kept the old Marantz unplugged much of the time after that. Around one year later, I'd be responsible for destroying the television by dropping coins into an open slot in the cabinet on the front, shorting out some components on a board. My knack for electronics remains to this day.
Not an early memory, but I had the same experience when John Kennedy was shot.
Everyone ready to feel old? My psychology class last year touched on the subject of early memories. "Of course", the professor said, "we all have our important memories that were imprinted through shock. For my generation, it was Kennedy being shot -- we all remember where we were when we heard the news. For your generation, it was The Challenger exploding. How many of you remember where you were when you saw that on the news or were standing outside and saw the launch?" My hand went up and I turned to look at the class of 100 students. Five other hands. The professor was confused, until a student in the back said, "I was one year old, so my parents had to tell me about it later." Another replied, "I wasn't born yet."
Oh, god. Sigh.
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