Today is the 50th anniversary of the assassination of John F Kennedy.
As is the case every year, but most especially this anniversary, the inevitable: pictures, films, stories, memories. Every city, every person, it seems, citing an individual connection to the awful theme.
And this, as in every year, come the inevitable questions: Was there more than one shooter? Was Kennedy the victim of a conspiracy? And if so, who were the conspirators? What if Kennedy had lived? Is there a Kennedy curse?
It is not my intention to participate in the above. Instead, I'd like to share a memory, (not of the assassination or of JFK, but his brother, Ted) and issue a challenge.
In my life I have met no one as taken by the Kennedy Mystique than my friend, Scott. So, picture it: the fall of 1983, both of us fresh out of high school. Scott hears that Massachusetts Senator Edward M Kennedy will be appearing at the Gold Room of the Allegheny County Courthouse on November 21, for a hearing on world hunger. This event will be open to the public. Would I, his ever-so-frequent partner-in-crime, like to attend and, perhaps, snag an autograph?
Would I!
I remember very little of the event itself, only that it took place in the early afternoon on a rather raw and chilly Pittsburgh day and was, therefore, not widely attended. I do remember Kennedy's startled reaction to a dropped briefcase, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the quiet room -- you can't tell me the impending 20th anniversary wasn't on his mind. But he wasn't wallowing, he was out doing good.
Scott and I did get to meet Ted Kennedy, who seemed to me very tall with humongous hands. It may be very hard for those who know me now to believe this, but I was at that time pretty shy (my Plaza persona is often, by turns, mischievous, boisterous, and shall we just say, assertive) and could not manage a word to this Famous Person (even though he was humanized somewhat by a spot of Wite-Out-type correction fluid on his face), while Scott effected the most adroit of discourses.
Eventually, everybody left the room but Scott and me, and we began to scavenge, uh, collect, yes, that's the word. Scott got Ted Kennedy's coffee cup, and I got his pointer. (Get your minds out of the gutter, I'm talking office equipment here). Thirty years later and I still have it, along with his autograph. A great memory and the closest we ever got to Camelot.
Ah, Camelot! 1000 days of a presidency that still haunts us. It appears to me that America was cruising along, high on dominance in two World Wars, in a postwar boom. It seemed like there was nothing that American ingenuity and muscle couldn't accomplish. Then two Kennedys and Martin Luther King, Jr. were assassinated, the complications and consequences of Vietnam and Watergate came to our awareness and suddenly, the world as we knew it ground to a screeching halt. And to me, it just feels like it all started with the assassination of JFK.
We can debate the rest, but John Kennedy could make a speech, couldn't he? In his Inaugural Address on January 20, 1961, Kennedy talked of a torch being passed. We in my age group are almost at that place now, with children that are or almost are adults. Are we happy with the world we are leaving them? What would we like to change about it? Do our children know they can affect change? Do they know how to? These, and many more, are questions we must ask ourselves as we prepare to pass the torch. Aren't these much more important than the other questions we usually ask anew this day every year? I submit that answering them, and following up with real actions that resonate with our value structures, and teaching our children to do the same, will do more to honor our 35th president than the way we customarily spend this day each year. If you agree with me, I hope to see you in the trenches.
Good vibes to all of you,
Claudia
