Remembering JFK

One of my oldest memories occurred on November 22, 1963 when I was five days shy of my fourth birthday. As my two-year old sister, Lisa, napped and my mother busied herself in the kitchen, I watched the little black and white Zenith in the living room on the top floor in our DeGraw Street apartment. Suddenly, there was a news bulletin. I didn’t know what it meant but I was upset that it had interrupted my cartoons.Nothing was the same after that bulletin. I went to tell my mother that something was wrong with the TV and she came into the living room. The terrible news was delivered: President Kennedy had been shot and it was later confirmed that the shot had been fatal.

Now I don’t profess to say that I understood what was happening that day but I certainly knew that things were not good. When my father got home home later that day, it felt like there had been a death in the family. Everything became somber and I remember the Zenith being on for the rest of the day.

What had John F. Kennedy meant to a working class, Italian-American family from Brooklyn? I think he meant the world. Unlike us, he was a son of privilege but he was also the descendent of immigrants and a Catholic and he was part of a large family; that was something to which our family and neighbors could relate. I don’t recall my family being political at all but I do remember my Nana telling me that she registered to vote for the first time in her life because she wanted to vote for JFK. I’m sure his looks didn’t hurt his cause either.

My father saved all the newspapers from the following days along with the next issues of Life and Look magazines. These were important historical mementos to him and he kept them in his army footlocker along with his other keepsakes. I also remember a commemorative plate that hung in our kitchen. On it were profiles of JFK and his beautiful wife, Jackie. Its presence in our home paid homage to this couple who had instilled so much hope only to have it all dashed away so cruelly. 

As I watched and read the extensive coverage of the 50th Anniversary of JFK’s death this week, the profound sadness seems to have not diminished, even a half a century later. I am fully aware of what unfolded that day, able to grasp how deep the loss was for our country. With the death of JFK came a loss of innocence, but even more so a loss of hope. The messages that he delivered, however, should not be lost and I think we can keep that hopefulness alive by going back to his words.  We all know the “ask not what your country can do for you — ask what you can do for your country” inaugural quote but there are so many others.  I like this one: “If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.” And this one seems so apropos: " A man may die, nations may rise and fall, but an idea lives on."

Maybe all these remembrances of JFK can turn some of our present disillusion around. At least, I am hopeful.