J.F.K. (1917-1963)

I wrote this yesterday, but blogger is being a whorebitch again.

I'm different to most people. I don't remember where/when I was, when I heard about Kennedy's death. It's all sort of a blur. But I do remember trying to put the newspaper together, and having to write about it. (Owners and Editors face deadlines too, and this was not something you could have prepackaged and sitting around.)

I can still remember that, in a fit of idiotic hubris, I had allocated the entire second page for my own piece. All text, and no photos. And then discovering over the course of hours that I did not know as much about the man as I would have liked. I knew more, much more, about his public image.

I remember letting the minutes slide by, staring into space, as I tried to remember anything that might give a human side to the man, who was even then, becoming larger than life. A legend. A White House messiah cut down in his prime. But I didn't want to write some fawning adoration to a fake god-head, when chances were that future revelations would tarnish the mans reputation. I wanted to write something that would last. (One of the reasons I got out of that business too... Daily news was becoming ultimately disposible.). But this was different. I knew that. This news wasn't disposible. It was history in a way that few stories are. And there was a lot of white space to fill.

I used to have a sign in my office, a motto of sorts. Words to live by anyway, which I used to keep in mind every time I sat down to write. It can be loosely translated as "Don't fuck it up".

The years between then and now, have not been kind to Kennedy. But the public has. They have more or less forgiven his indiscretions. The Cuban missile crisis is regarded as his brave unblinking stare-down of the communist menace. The most common speech that people remember, is either the one that launched the space race
"We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard"

or the one from his Inaugeral address
"My fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you: Ask what you can do for your country."

And these are good words to remember.

I could do a better job these days, of writing about the human side of Kennedy. His mistakes, both personal and political. Certainly, I could tear into some of the decisions that he made, or the reckless or illegal or immoral acts of his administration. But what would be the point? And on his anniversary, at that?

J.F.K. wasn't a saint. He was a man, caught in the riptide of history, fighting forces that were beyond the comprehension of normal citizens. He was victorious sometimes, and bowed when he had to be. But he wasn't the type of man to break.

Some can argue that that is why his removal was "approved" by those who hold the real power. I'm not trying to say that.
Rather, I would say that that is why he remains a good role model, and an inspiration to many.

Requiat In Pace
posted by Manchild at 1:00 AM