Ham on Wry devotes this post to the memory of John Fitzgerald Kennedy and his unrealized potential to spur the transformation of America into a place where all citizens enjoyed the rights promised in the United States Constitution and the Bill of Rights. I must write this blog entry in the first person because I am sharing personal memories of that fateful day 50 years ago when Lee Harvey Oswald assassinated President Kennedy and my world splintered.
President Kennedy took office in a time of great upheaval in our nation when a burgeoning civil rights movement shook the core of our national pride. We were definitely not "one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all" as our Pledge of Allegiance proclaimed. Kennedy envisioned a nation where freedom and justice applied equally to all its citizens and along with his brother, Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy, pledged to move our country in that direction. His murder dashed the hopes of all who believed his promises.
Ironically, November 22, 1963 was exactly 50 years ago, for it also fell on Friday. I was a freshman in college and was hurrying to my French class, finding it odd that the halls were so quiet. As I neared the classroom, my French teacher leaned against the door, looking somewhat dazed. Usually, she stayed in the room speaking with students in French. One of my classmates followed close behind me, and she halted us both at the door. Speaking rapidly amidst her tears she announced, "President Kennedy was shot and killed. Class in canceled."
I was stunned and felt as though my body had turned to jello as I leaned against the wall for support and wailed. As more students appeared, the sounds of grief reverberated through the halls, creating a mournful symphony reminiscent of a funeral dirge. Eventually, we abandoned the building in silence, moving zombie-like toward our dorms.
My mom was waiting for me when I reached the dorm because I had a doctor's appointment in another city. Instead of going there, she took me home and rescheduled the appointment. We watched the news unfold on TV, and I regard that as a turning point in the way reporting happened on television. Live coverage of events did not occur prior to JFK's assassination, but that changed when he was murdered.
Many reporters who were just starting their careers during that time have said that they will never forget that day, and neither will I. To this day, no explanation that makes sense has emerged about Oswald's motive for assassinating President Kennedy, and I don't think any stunning revelation will answer that question in my lifetime. I keep thinking of Don McLean's song The Day the Music Died and wonder if we couldn't say that Kennedy's assassination was The Day the Our Nation Cried.
The image of Jackie Kennedy in her blood-spattered pink suit is forever etched in my memory. It came in part from the effect of the bullets that hit President Kennedy and partly because she climbed onto the back of the convertible in which they were riding in an attempt to gather some the matter that had landed there when one of the bullets hit his head. I can’t help but grieve for the unrealized future, especially when I see the utter calamity that calls itself Congress. Perhaps Kennedy’s memory can serve as a wake-up call to put aside the nonsense and remember Kennedy’s words. My fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.