Reflections on the Assassination of JFK, Part 2

In many ways the 50's and early 60's were my age of innocence.  Granted, there were bullies at school and we lived in a small house that never seemed to have enough bedrooms, but overall I had very few cares.  I was aware of the Cold War and the Soviet menace but it didn't seem to really effect me.  I recall having air-raid drills at school in the early 50's but after the Korean War they suddenly came to an end.  Probably just as well: I could never understand how crawling under my desk with my head covered was going to protect me should someone decide to bomb Detroit.  Part of the sense of security was probably due to the fact that we had a president who seemed to be more of a national grandfather.  President Eisenhower was a World War II hero.  Like an aging relative: he had health issues.  I remember being told a couple of time to pray for him because he had suffered a heart attack.  

I recall the controversy that evolved around President Kennedy's election.  Our nation had never had a Catholic president before and some conservatives warned that in times of crisis he might be more inclined to listen to the Pope than his advisers.  After having had nothing but aging leaders, I found President Kennedy was a breath of fresh air.  He was someone I could identify with.  He was young and had a family.  I remember being told by a teacher that JFK was proof that our country was ready for the kind of change youthful leadership would bring.  Even the Cuban Missile Crisis could not dull that.  Our dynamic young leader stood toe-to-toe with the Russian President, Nikita Khrushchev, and the Soviet leader blinked.  Our Camelot was secure, at least for another year.

Camelot ended on November 22, 1963.  The age of innocence was replaced by turmoil, uncertainty and violence.  We were vulnerable as a nation.  Within a short time we mourned the death of two more national leaders, Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy.  We also faced the reality of the Viet Nam War, a conflict that hit close to home since I was of draft age.  The peace of the 50's was replaced by violence in the street.  My hometown of Detroit suffered the most from these conflicts and has never recovered.  During the political conventions of 1968 I witnessed, via television, protesters my age being beaten in the streets of Chicago.  Then came the drug culture, another dose of the reality that we live in an imperfect world.  Even music was different after the tragic events of 11/22/63.  The Beatles arrived a few months later, followed by the protest songs, featuring singers like Bob Dylan and Barry McGuire. 

Through it all I continued to ponder the thought my dad had spoken the afternoon of the assassination.  People turn to the church during times of crisis.  Over the years my faith has gotten me through all the changes and transitions.  I've come through personal crisis, like my wife's breast cancer and the sudden loss of my job.  We have also weathered national crisis like 9/11.  My hope remains in an Eternal Kingdom rather than an earthly Camelot.