This is a repost from the Fray Days. I do it every year. Some of you may have seen this several times before. If you have seen it, and approve of my reposting it, thanks; if you have seen it and do not approve then go [Unwelcome language removed] yourselves.
Sunday, November 21, 2004
You can follow the route of the motorcade down Main Street but Houston Street is one way left so you cannot make the right turn to Elm. I drove around the block and accessed Elm Street a block East of Dealey Plaza.
I told the grandkids to be very quiet. I had prepared them for this. “Tomorrow is a sad day in history,” I told them.
“What’s history?” The 5 year old asked.
“Things that happened before you were born,, I told him.
The 15 year old and the 11 year old understood but the 5 & 7 came along just because I asked them to. Down the hill past the School Book Depository toward the overpass that Jackie Kennedy had hoped would provide some momentary shade from the bright sun shining down on the motorcade.
“Right here guys,” I said, stopping in the street near the sign that is still there that is visible in the Zapruder film. “Right here is where the President of the United States was killed.” They looked around, not knowing what to think. Perhaps thinking their grandfather a little strange at this particular moment.
I had to move on because of the traffic. I drove around and parked so we could walk through Dealey Plaza. I wanted them to “feel” what had happened here 41 years ago.
******************************************************
I was walking across the compound at the Naval Air Station in Brunswick Maine headed to one of the base offices to take care of some personal business. A guy I knew from another squadron yelled at me from his barracks window. “Jack. Did you hear, the president’s been shot, in Dallas”. I asked him for details but he said it had just happened. He thought Kennedy was okay, though.
Then a very strange thing happened. I came across a guy from my squadron. A man named Joe Johnson, from Kansas I think he was. I asked him if he had heard anything new and he said he had not but that I should not worry. He said if Kennedy was killed then “Johnson” would be president and that would be a good thing because he had the same name that he did.
“That’s just plain crazy, Joe,” I told him. “You don’t hope the president is dead do you?”
“No,” he said, but if he is, it’s not a bad thing because Johnson will be better.”
Joe had gotten into a fight with an Air Force fellow when the squadron was passing through the Azores and he had not come out very well. He spent several months in the hospital and rejoined ranks with us later in Sicily. I wasn’t sure at that moment if he had ever fully recovered. I am still not sure, but mild lunacy is not an odd thing within the military ranks. I knew many who did not seem to be quite right.
I got to the office of my destination and the two women working there had the radio on. We heard the news together that the President was dead. I was stunned and the two women started crying. It was like a daydream. Everything and everyone seemed to just shut down for a while. It had been just three short years since he had brought such enthusiasm and hope for the future. It was incredible to me that anyone would want to kill him. I was, I suppose, very naïve.
We parked the car and walked to Dealey Plaza and I showed the kids the little memorial that is there. I pointed to the 6th floor window where the shooter sat. The trees are still full of leaves and it is difficult to see now how he had an unobstructed view of the limousine from that vantage point. I know that was not the case in ’63. The foliage was not as full.
A man was trying to sell another of the many conspiracy books on the assassination. I told him that I had had enough of the conspiracy. I said that I had put it out of my mind. He said that was the problem, too many people didn’t care anymore. I told him I had never bought into the lone gunman theory. I pointed to the knoll and the picket fence that is still there (or at least one like the original) and said “I believe there was another shooter right over there.” He agreed.
There really isn’t much to see there. The older kids seem to grasp the content of the place and of the events that happened there so long ago. The little one wanted to go to the zoo and the 7 year old wanted to go to “Chili’s” for lunch. We left and went to Chili’s.
There was a time, I used to say
When absolutes and naiveté
Were stripped and scarred
And blown away
In Dealey Plaza one November day
When I was twenty-one.
From “When I Was Twenty-One”
C 1997 Jack Dallas
John Kennedy may or may not have turned out to be a great president. Sadly, we shall never know.
Jack Dallas
Sunday, November 21, 2004
You can follow the route of the motorcade down Main Street but Houston Street is one way left so you cannot make the right turn to Elm. I drove around the block and accessed Elm Street a block East of Dealey Plaza.
I told the grandkids to be very quiet. I had prepared them for this. “Tomorrow is a sad day in history,” I told them.
“What’s history?” The 5 year old asked.
“Things that happened before you were born,, I told him.
The 15 year old and the 11 year old understood but the 5 & 7 came along just because I asked them to. Down the hill past the School Book Depository toward the overpass that Jackie Kennedy had hoped would provide some momentary shade from the bright sun shining down on the motorcade.
“Right here guys,” I said, stopping in the street near the sign that is still there that is visible in the Zapruder film. “Right here is where the President of the United States was killed.” They looked around, not knowing what to think. Perhaps thinking their grandfather a little strange at this particular moment.
I had to move on because of the traffic. I drove around and parked so we could walk through Dealey Plaza. I wanted them to “feel” what had happened here 41 years ago.
******************************************************
I was walking across the compound at the Naval Air Station in Brunswick Maine headed to one of the base offices to take care of some personal business. A guy I knew from another squadron yelled at me from his barracks window. “Jack. Did you hear, the president’s been shot, in Dallas”. I asked him for details but he said it had just happened. He thought Kennedy was okay, though.
Then a very strange thing happened. I came across a guy from my squadron. A man named Joe Johnson, from Kansas I think he was. I asked him if he had heard anything new and he said he had not but that I should not worry. He said if Kennedy was killed then “Johnson” would be president and that would be a good thing because he had the same name that he did.
“That’s just plain crazy, Joe,” I told him. “You don’t hope the president is dead do you?”
“No,” he said, but if he is, it’s not a bad thing because Johnson will be better.”
Joe had gotten into a fight with an Air Force fellow when the squadron was passing through the Azores and he had not come out very well. He spent several months in the hospital and rejoined ranks with us later in Sicily. I wasn’t sure at that moment if he had ever fully recovered. I am still not sure, but mild lunacy is not an odd thing within the military ranks. I knew many who did not seem to be quite right.
I got to the office of my destination and the two women working there had the radio on. We heard the news together that the President was dead. I was stunned and the two women started crying. It was like a daydream. Everything and everyone seemed to just shut down for a while. It had been just three short years since he had brought such enthusiasm and hope for the future. It was incredible to me that anyone would want to kill him. I was, I suppose, very naïve.
We parked the car and walked to Dealey Plaza and I showed the kids the little memorial that is there. I pointed to the 6th floor window where the shooter sat. The trees are still full of leaves and it is difficult to see now how he had an unobstructed view of the limousine from that vantage point. I know that was not the case in ’63. The foliage was not as full.
A man was trying to sell another of the many conspiracy books on the assassination. I told him that I had had enough of the conspiracy. I said that I had put it out of my mind. He said that was the problem, too many people didn’t care anymore. I told him I had never bought into the lone gunman theory. I pointed to the knoll and the picket fence that is still there (or at least one like the original) and said “I believe there was another shooter right over there.” He agreed.
There really isn’t much to see there. The older kids seem to grasp the content of the place and of the events that happened there so long ago. The little one wanted to go to the zoo and the 7 year old wanted to go to “Chili’s” for lunch. We left and went to Chili’s.
There was a time, I used to say
When absolutes and naiveté
Were stripped and scarred
And blown away
In Dealey Plaza one November day
When I was twenty-one.
From “When I Was Twenty-One”
C 1997 Jack Dallas
John Kennedy may or may not have turned out to be a great president. Sadly, we shall never know.
Jack Dallas
