A somber anniversary

By Jeff Orvis

It was a typically gray late fall day. For the only year of my first seven years in school, I was in a different building. But the novelty of climbing on a bus and traveling three or four miles to the top of the hill to the newer Pleasant View School had begun to wear off by that late November day and I suppose I had the same view as my classmates that a day off from classes for parent-teacher conferences, even if it was only a week until Thanksgiving, was a welcome change.

Dad was at work. Mom had a scheduled conference with my third grade teacher just after noon. Since we were too young to stay home alone and since the school allowed kids to hang out in the gym while their parents were in conference, my sister and I went along. It was a rare opportunity to have the gym virtually to ourselves – basketballs and indoor hoops! I vaguely remember that a radio was playing in the background and suddenly the music stopped and a newsman began talking.

It's been five decades since that day and memories sometimes are a big cloudy. But I remember that even then I felt it was my responsibility to tell Mom that the president had been shot in Dallas when she was finished with her conference. She may have already been told and I remember it was a quiet ride back to the house.

In those days, both Mom and Dad were big Kennedy supporters. Looking back and considering my mom's political leanings later in life, I don't know if she was a real fan or if she was simply attempting to keep harmony in the house as she was married to a lifelong Democrat. What I do remember is the rest of that day and for most of the next three days, she shed a lot of tears.

My folks were not politically active. They didn't volunteer at candidate headquarters or make phone calls on behalf of candidates. But they made sure we were exposed to the political process at an early age. My earliest memory was when we were living in Rock Island, IL early in 1960. We walked down to the corner along a busy street and watched as a motorcade carrying the future president passed by. I still think he smiled and waved at us. Later that summer, we drove from our house in the Quad-Cities to Monticello, IA, to hear a campaign speech by the future vice president (and later president) Lyndon Johnson. He was truly in his element, speaking in front of a grandstand on the grounds of a county fair.

So much has been written about the Kennedy years, especially in the days leading up to this fateful anniversary. President Kennedy still maintains an approval rating over 90 percent. We have heard that he may not have always been faithful in his marriage. We learned that he served in office despite a debilitating back ailment. But he overcame so much to lead this nation for such a short time. He came from a family of great wealth, but also one of great service. Despite that wealth, his parents never let him nor his brothers or sisters forget the responsibilities they had to help mankind. He was a war hero, scholar, member of Congress and author.

He broke the mold of what our parents and grandparents expected in their president. Most of those who came before him were old enough to be grandfathers. John Kennedy had two young children under the age of six. He was also a practicing Catholic, another fact that some tried to use against him.

As we remember the Kennedy legacy, it's often tough for me to remember that many of those who I may want to discuss this with weren't even born when he was president. But even if you were only six or seven years old at that time, the few seconds of terror branded our memory with something that stays with us today and will last forever.