42 Years Later: Remembering JFK
42 years ago, we sat in front of our television sets in complete
shock. When the usually totally objective Walter Cronkite
momentarily lost it on a live broadcast, he represented faces
all over America, frozen in grief and disbelief.
It was an innocent time. Young, vigorous, charismatic, and
eloquent, Jack Kennedy represented the dreams of the young. Into
a political world filled with tired old detached men, he and his
passionate New England intelligentsia swept like a fresh wind
that promised a new world order and unlimited potential for all
of us. We loved his accent, his hair, his humor, and his energy.
We couldn't wait to join the Peace Corps and remake the world.
For years, we quietly asked each other: Where were you when
Kennedy was shot? We all knew exactly where we were and what we
were doing when the news came. It was a moment frozen in time, a
great divide between the promise that had shined so brightly and
the unknown darkness that lay ahead after the light had been so
prematurely extinguished.
Later, the cynicism of an ugly war, a string of assassinations,
riots in the streets, and the paranoia of a secretive
administration, would take their toll on our dreams, our desire
to participate and to serve, and our belief in our leaders.
We put away our optimism, our social dedication, and our
carefree belief in our ability to make a permanent difference.
We moved into business, raised families, made money, and
withdrew from the streets. We stopped marching, stopped voting,
stopped caring. We lost our sense of trust and the heart in our
fight for equality and peace slowly shriveled.
When I ask at work: Where were you when Kennedy was shot, I am
greeted by blank stares from staff who weren't even conceived in
1963. Despite the pain of that time, I feel deep sorrow for
those who never had the opportunity to experience the excitement
and euphoria of Camelot.
As the old saw states, "It is better to have loved and lost than
never to have loved at all." We lost a great and important part
of ourselves on that grassy knoll in Dallas. But we are better
people for the elation he gave us, the dreams he inspired, and
the deep commitment to our fellow man that he generated within
us.
Those who missed that rare shining moment are, all unaware,
diminished in their souls. And those of us who were lucky enough
to have that spirit enter our lives, however briefly, must each
mourn his death alone.
Happy trails, Jack.
About the author:
Virginia Bola is a licensed clinical psychologist with deep
interests in Social Psychology and politics. She has performed
therapeutic services for more than 20 years and has studied the
effects of cultural forces and employment on the individual. The
author of two interactive workbooks: The Wolf at the Door: An
Unemployment Survival Manual and Diet With An Attitude: A Weight
Loss Workbook, she can be reached at her Social Psych Blog
Written By: Virginia Bola, PsyD
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