Forty two Years Later: Remembering JFK

42 years ago, we sat in the front of our tv sets in complete surprise. When the commonly absolutely objective Walter Cronkite momentarily misplaced it on a stay broadcast, he represented faces throughout America, frozen in grief and disbelief.

It was an innocent time. Young, full of life, charismatic, and eloquent, Jack Kennedy represented the desires of the younger. Into a political world packed with tired old detached guys, he and his passionate New England intelligentsia swept like a clean wind that promised a brand new international order and unlimited capability for anybody. We loved his accessory, his hair, his humor, and his electricity. We couldn’t wait to sign up for the Peace Corps and remake the world.

For years, we quietly requested each different: Where have been you while Kennedy was shot? We all knew precisely where we have been and what we were doing when the information got here. It became a second frozen in time, a exquisite divide among the promise that had shined so brightly and the unknown darkness that lay beforehand after the mild were so prematurely extinguished.

Later, the cynicism of an unpleasant battle, a string of assassinations, riots inside the streets, and the paranoia of a secretive administration, could take their toll on our goals, our desire to take part and to serve, and our notion in our leaders.

We placed away our optimism, our social willpower, and our carefree perception in our capability to make a permanent difference. We moved into business, raised families, made money, and withdrew from the streets. We stopped marching, stopped voting, stopped worrying. We misplaced our experience of accept as true with and the heart in our combat for equality and peace slowly shriveled.

When I ask at work: Where had been you when Kennedy became shot, I am greeted by blank stares from body of workers who weren’t even conceived in 1963. Despite the ache of that point, I feel deep sorrow for folks who by no means had the opportunity to revel in the excitement and euphoria of Camelot.

As the vintage noticed states, "It is higher to have loved and misplaced than never to have cherished at all." We lost a fantastic and important a part of ourselves on that grassy knoll in Dallas. But we are higher human beings for the elation he gave us, the dreams he inspired, and the deep dedication to our fellow guy that he generated within us.

Those who ignored that uncommon shining moment are, all unaware, diminished in their souls. And those people who have been lucky enough to have that spirit input our lives, but in short, have to every mourn his demise alone.

Happy trails, Jack.

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