Recollections of the JFK Assassination -November 22 - 25, 1963
DETROIT November 22, 2013 This weekend marks the 50th Anniversary of the assassination of
President John Fitzgerald Kennedy. It is a milestone that one never could
imagine would arrive so swiftly, shake up emotion and jolt our memory. Today, I
write as a catharsis to recall distant memories, sort through decades of
controversy and hope to find meaning and the effect on my life and of my
classmates who shared the exact time and space of that day.
It is November 2013 and the television airs a seemingly
endless string of documentaries recounting the tragedy, shock and disbelief
then and now. The recounts and dissects every aspect, event and the casualty of
spirit after four heart-wrenching days beginning with shots ringing out across
Dealey Plaza on a Friday and a funeral march on Monday. NBC aired one special
that rose above the rest.
Tom Brokaw presided as commentator, host and conscience for a
title I regrettably cannot exact "Where Were You When You First Heard of
President Kennedy's death?"
I began the morning by posting recollections on Twitter and Face
Book. As the morning moved to afternoon, a constant and endless flow of
tributes, memories and blogs came to serve a renewed “vigor” to write. I wrote
on past midnight only to break at dawn. My goal is to record my own impressions
of the assassination and the impact on my life.
– Where were you when you first learned of
President Kennedy’s death?
St. Juliana Catholic Elementary
School, Detroit, Michigan - November 22, 1963
In 1963, we reached the 8th grade and final year at St. Juliana.
We sat in the classroom that afternoon when we could hear something stirring in
the hall. Sr. Consuela excused herself for just a quick moment so to attend an
impromptu meeting. Upon her return, visibly shaken she informed us that an
announcement was forthcoming on the P.A.
We sat silent and then the deep but somber voice of our Pastor,
Fr. Holloway resonated from that round speaker above the teacher desk. Fr.
Holloway informed us at approximately 1:30PM that our beloved President Kennedy
was shot while riding in a motorcade in Dallas, Texas. At 12:30PM CT and now
pronounced dead at Parkland Hospital. He cautioned us to remain calm throughout
and led us in prayer for the President, the First Lady and the Kennedy Family.
I recall that I (as one of his chief campaign supporters) I felt
shock and had some difficulty in just what this meant for all of us in our
community and how the country or U.S.S.R. might react. We worried of a possible
WWIII. When I began to digest this tragedy, my eyes welled with tears.
I am not sure if we had an early dismissal or not. I know that
later I watched two school buses pass by on Hayes Rd. moving toward Harper and
I-94. I quickly identified one as the Denby H.S. Football team and the other as
from Notre Dame H.S. Then it dawned on me. The decision, that the Championship
Football game would take place as one way to memorialize our dead President. "He
would have wanted the game to go forward" I heard. This was the Soup Bowl
pitting Detroit Public School Champions against the Catholic School Champions
.
A gray sky engulfed the City of Detroit that evening. The weather
turned breezy and cold as I stood on the corner there at Evanston. Both buses
passed with respective football teams rode in silence to Tiger Stadium or was
it Briggs Stadium at that time. A cold persistent drizzle fell and those teams
played the game under even more adverse conditions. I did not remain there
long. I returned home. It was going to be a long, almost silent weekend vigil
at home. Every eye focused on the B&W TV. This was the first time that for
most of the class, Death became personal, unique to each in level of pain.
As a Nation, we found no closure viewing from a distant perch in
our own living room. The somber filled funeral procession eclipsed all time and
any other event as it moved slowly along Pennsylvania Avenue. The Lincoln
funeral one hundred years prior inspired the use of a caisson. The constant in
it all is the sound of horse hoofs on brick. Tied to the back is Blackjack, a
rider less horse. The finality to that day is dark, but ashen, absent closure
for all who witness there and across the globe courtesy of his vision. We painfully
viewed interment at the resting place appropriate in Heroic design. The cobbled
site fit for King or Pharaoh. It is not Giza but Arlington National Cemetery.
Jacqueline Kennedy became the chief choreographer of all of
the funeral and memorial that took place on Monday, November 25, 1963.
Imagine in the face of such adversity, her requests were not to be denied. She
became an inspiration as how one of her stature could mourn with dignity under
the scrutiny of media from across the globe. I recall reading that Jacqueline
directed White House and her personal staff to research the funeral proceedings
of Abraham Lincoln one-hundred years prior. They studied the procession route,
the caisson used to carry the President’s estimated two-thousand pound casket.
Many of the Lincoln funeral plans were replicated down to the smallest detail.
One visible difference involved the final resting place.
Jacqueline Kennedy was determined that the legacy and memory of her slain
husband’s triumphs and the tragic would never be forgotten. To this end, an
“eternal flame” is "central" to the overall design of grave site using
pavers spiral outwards. I wonder if Mrs. Kennedy came to plan it as I look upon
it today. The flame at the center is the Sun and each spiral ring the universe.
As First Lady, she executed her last duty by lighting flame. Over time, it is
reminiscent of the Olympic Flame acknowledging endurance and achievement.
Our class of 1964 graduated some 90+ students prepared for High
School and equipped with a College Prep curriculum. For eight years, we were
crammed in two classrooms. We now know that Public Schools targeted classroom
ideal size at a number much lower than 45 of us! I recall that just a few years
ago we held our first reunion. I simply marveled at those in attendance who
reported their career choices. I believe that among ninety of us there were at
least four doctors, 5 or more holding high positions in the big three.
There was our own Ricky Martin whose "la Vida" was with
the UAW training program. Among our class were several teachers, real estate
brokers, small business owners, a scientist and a California-based
Entertainment Attorney. Can there be any doubt? Gary Andre, the best dancer now
striving for Hollywood status. Last, but not least is Fr. Joe Hindlelang, a
Marist priest now presiding at Notre Dame High School. Joe went on as I later
heard to lead the Marist Mission in the United States.
Forgive me if I missed any other high achievers, as we all were
success stories. Was there any doubt WE would succeed. Three years earlier, Sr.
Charlotte and all of the dedicated nuns at St. Juliana's drove a strong message
home to each of us. The Servite Nuns and Priests preached time after time that
to succeed in our lives, college or university education was not an
expectation, but a given. We aspired to do great things for our country and
ourselves. I believe our dedication originated with President John Fitzgerald
Kennedy and his Inaugural address.
We proudly wore our Catholicism displaying it on our chests.
Together, as a class we were to view the entire Inauguration in our classroom
from his Oath of Office, the inspirational speech and the parade that followed.
I recall my thought that our TV viewing of history unfolding before our eyes
was a sort of reward, a break from algebra, word problems and impromptu
spelling matches.
Pride became part of me while at St. Juliana's and among wonderful
classmates. I thought of all those neighborhood playmates attending class in
Detroit Public Schools. I felt empathy for them. They did not know of the
disparity in quality education absent the corporal punishment. However, they
were lacking that drive to achieve excellence.
Where were you in the beginning of the
Kennedy Administration?
St. Juliana Catholic Elementary School, Detroit, Michigan - January 20, 1961
St. Juliana Catholic Elementary School, Detroit, Michigan - January 20, 1961
On Inauguration Day as a class, we viewed the festivities. We came
to focus exclusively and little chatter to the young President as it displayed
on the obsolete black and white portable. Jacqueline appeared at her
husband’s side. Together, united not only in marriage but also as collaborators
in transferring the stodgy country stuck in the past to the nation dedicated to
education, equality in politics, and a vision where Labor and Management might
reach parity in stature and closing the gap in earnings. The First Lady would
become the epicenter for the Arts, Culture and Music.
Jacqueline Kennedy is now America’s greatest Ambassador softening
the language of Nikita Khrushchev while keeping the heels and sole of his shoes
planted on the floor.
John Kennedy stood upon the dais with only his tuxedo jacket
between him and an unseasonable frigid climate. His star is rising. He now is
above the throngs before him. History will unfold his breath visible in the
cold just as he spoke of a “New Frontier” and his “shout out.” “Do not ask of
your country what it can do for you –but, ask what YOU can do for your
country”. His “visions for America indeed were as lofty as reaching the moon.
The change in direction was as a difficult, steep climb up the steps of the
Capitol building.
“We do it, not because it is easy, but because it is hard.” He
spoke of the America he envisioned that could rise to any occasion and achieve any
aspiration.
In the classroom of a modest school as St. Juliana, we were
certain President Kennedy "was" speaking directly to all of us.
His ability to speak in a common denominator to all Americans was a “gift.” His
frank talk, transparent to the press and in the State of the Union speeches he
largely wrote and delivered before Congress, hardened his opposition. The
powerful interest and influence of a Military Industrial Complex were to face a
formidable foe, JFK is now perceived as a threat to an autocratic government
influenced with "big money"
The enemy of change faced a determined intellectual, a visionary
for all races and religions, supporting free enterprise but not at the expense
of Labor. He would not bend to a Southern extremism nor turn a blind eye to
poverty and racism he espoused to eliminate with a sweeping Civil Rights
Bill.
His self-deprecating humor he presented was sophisticated for the
Press Corps and as earthy and understandable from coal miners to autoworkers,
migrant workers and mid-management. John Kennedy rose to a level achieved like
no before.
His every mannerism endeared television audiences and throngs of
humanity abroad. He could grasp complex issues critical to foreign governments
and mesmerized the populations in Europe including those locked behind the Iron
Curtain. Just as another hero rose in another arena, Mohammad Ali, he
outclassed every opponent in the political ring. He out-maneuvered his harshest
enemies in national debates by allowing his opponent to expose their every
flaw.
The Congressional and Corporate opposition came to perspire
profusely. The confidence he held under crisis-disarmed missiles ninety miles
from our shore. The charisma he exuded in the Camelot of the White House may
have triggered a hastily orchestrated coup d’état.
A chill runs the length of my spine whenever I hear a sound bite
or come across quotes from the Inaugural Address on January 20, 1961. President
Kennedy delivered the words, catch phrases directed to our nation's youth. President
Kennedy succeeded. Those words would ignite fervor within us then, and through
all the days to follow. His words resonate fifty years later just as it did on
Inauguration Day.
As the new youthful President, John F. Kennedy with a distinct New
England accent he spoke for the World not only to hear, but also to heed his
challenge and cautions.
“Let the word go forth from this time and place,
to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of
Americans—born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and
bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage—and unwilling to witness or permit
the slow undoing of those human rights to which this Nation has always been
committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world.
This personal Narrative is dedicated to the Class of ’64, a group of 95+ survivors of
8 years of study and penance under the supervision and the grace of the wonderful, Pius and corporal Sisters of the Servite Order.
St. Juliana Elementary
9801 Chalmers,
Detroit, Michigan 48213.
"Two heads are better than One when it's time to clang together" one elderly Sister (name is withheld) would say.
Although the Parish is closed, the school remains quite (Dis)-Functional serving grades K - 8 in the eastside community. The school maintains its reputation of high academic standards blended with a sister of Sacred Heart dose of discipline.
St. Juliana retains its tradition as a High School Prep curriculum, Although, to many in our class will describe the no-nonsense, heavy homework regimen as a precursor to the Head-Start Program. It is aptly described as "pre-university" and "demonstration" training for later in the decade. However, there are always in every class those few "hooligans" and "devilish children" who stray, find only Public School admissions and go on varied paths on the road to incarceration.
Today is much better as St. Juliana provides the educational tools for students to go on to their chosen career path and become model citizens of Detroit.
Our class is rumored to be planning a 50 Year Reunion sometime in 2014. Location is evidently secret as well as the date. If the Reunion does come off as Our "Golden Anniversary" there is but only one worthy to be the King. That regal position can only be filled by one.
After years of Servitude, I shall be given my due, corrugated, prostrated and showered with the weekly cash "My Offering" envelopes. Only then, hallowing me as the golden boy who thought he knew too much. Later, had the lead role in our Eighth grade performance as the growling beast...I mean Priest.
Missing Link http://www.classmates.com/people
*bartelby.com
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