In the summer of 1960, when I was 14, I saw and heard John Fitzgerald Kennedy when he spoke to the people of Cincinnati, downtown, at Fountain Square. He had such a beautiful voice
On November 22, 1963, a few months after I had moved to Tucson, I was running around the perimeter of Catalina High School with my gym class, doing the “grinder”, when kids started yelling out that the President’s car had been bombed.
When we got back to the locker room, Mr. Gridley came came over the public address system and told us all that our President was dead.
Some kid said “Good. He got what he deserved”. For the only time in my life, I snapped. I started beating the shit out of that kid. The other kids couldn’t pull me off of him. Finally, coach Cliff Myrick, a former Marine, disentangled us.
I wept that day. And I weep today as I type this.
I loved John Kennedy. He was a hero for me. The song of freedom and brotherhood that he sang, the belief he shared of universal betterment, rang true in my heart, in my soul.
I believed then, as I do today, that together we can truly change the world and the way in which we treat one another, the animals and sweet Mother Earth.
The powers that guide the universe willing, the clear, fine song of equality and justice will be heard again in this land and there will be another great President who will call for understanding, tolerance and acceptance.
And those powers willing, the citizens of our world shall hear it, listen to it, heed its wisdom and change accordingly.
Be brave. Be strong. Dare the impossible. Stand by your truth, be it unpopular. Never lose your dreams.
I miss you John Kennedy. I hope that you rest with the angels.
