This is written on the day of President Kennedy's funeral, though it will be much later when you read it. By then other developments may have occurred, but these are the thoughts that flood in now.
The hurly-burly of daily politics may have blurred temporarily a comprehension of what a truly great man we had in the White House. He was a man of many gifts; he had looks, charm, strength, intelligence, education and experience. He was sensitive to all the arts and sciences, especially literature, and was a magnificent writer (having won the Pulitzer prize for his "Profiles in Courage"), and an eloquent speaker, and a decisive politician. The whole course of his life had prepared him for the highest office in our land, and for international leadership.
But what comes to mind most keenly is how much this man endured. He had suffered to a degree that most of us never have to face. He lost his gallant older brother in the war, and a sister in a plane crash; so he knew what sudden death could mean. His father suffered a crippling stroke; so he had faced having an exceptionally competent parent become an invalid. A sister was mentally retarded; so he knew what that cross can be to a family. He went through the war in some of its ugliest phases. He didn't lose his life but almost did, and came out of the experience with a back injury that plagued him the rest of his life; so he knew what it is to endure continuous pain, and keep going.
Soon after his marriage he had such a recurrence of this trouble that his life was despaired of. Twice his wife has gone through the emotional crisis of losing him, -- once when he lingered so long at the painful brink but came back, and now when the end came without an instant's warning. He, in turn, went through the possibility of losing her, when her life hung by a thread at the birth of her son John, right after the nomination. And just last summer, they lost their baby; so he knew what it was to lose a child.
Is it any wonder that we, who have suffered only one or two or three of his afflictions, all feel kin to such a man? Or that he was so richly compassionate?
On a sunny day in Dallas, with hundreds of affectionate citizens around him, he was struck down. One minute he was smiling in the exhilaration of his welcome, the next he was unconscious, never to be aware of his surroundings again. Killed, not for some glorious principle, but to appease the petulance of a self-centered aberrant, who, it is believed, with a cheap gun used his only talent, sharp-shooting, in an evil way. Like most fanatics, he demanded rights for himself but utterly disregarded everyone else's. After flaunting his infidelity to our country, here and in Russia, he demanded that authorities change his discharge he had earned in the Marines from an undesirable to an honorable one. When they refused, he warned them that nothing would deter him from getting even. He got even, the evidence seems to say, by killing a President, and a policeman, and trying to kill a Governor and another officer.
Governor Connally had been Secretary of the Navy when the assassin made his appeal for the change, and the President would have been the last resort. Here he had both men in the same car, in a town with which he was ____, with time to lay his plans. What matter that the undesirable discharge was exactly what he had earned? If he wanted it changed and trampled on, and that he would not endure. He had guns, he had the parade route, he had a job in the very building most suitable for his purpose, and he had the skill. Not a thought for what his act would mean to his own family, nor the policeman's, nor the Governor's, nor the President's, not a thought for the complications his act would bring to the country and to the world. He got even!
Illustrating how oblivious to all but himself such an egoist can be, he called out to reporters (he who had killed two men within an hour!) that he hadn't been allowed a shower. As though the shattering of lives for which he was responsible was nothing in comparison with his personal comfort. When a reporter asked how he got a black eye, he answered with malice, "A policeman hit me." Not a word about his holding a gun on the officer at the time and only being prevented from killing him by an accidental misfire. He actually asked for some one to come forth and defend him. His smattering of communism had so puffed up his personality that he seemed to think people should rush in and hold the arms of officers while he shot them, rather than let HIM be hurt.
He got even! But before he had time to savor his triumph, before he could even tell his story, before he could realize the enormity of his deed, or repent, he was himself shot down and killed by a mercurial individual just as unreasonable as himself, though with a more unselfish motive. Apparently crazed by grief and rage at the assassination, this man fired once, and one more man lay dead without a chance to defend himself.
Haven't we all at some time, in childhood or later, experienced such a revulsion at a cruelty or injustice, such a surge toward revenge, that only circumstances saved us from rash and violent action? Many a one has only been restrained by lack of opportunity, so that he had time to calm down and let law and order take over. In this case, right at the apex of powerful emotion, circumstances were set up as though to order. The inflamed man had a pistol, he and the assassin were only a leap apart, and so the deed was done. Some say, "He got just what he deserved," -- but he deserved a trial and we deserved a chance to find out why and how he did what he did.
The Golden Rule does not say, do unto others as they have done unto you. Vengeance is Mine, saith the Lord.
So the world halted for four days, because of this bizarre sequence of events, this unnecessary, unreasonable and inexplicable tragedy. A little learning is a dangerous thing, and this assassin had learned just enough of communism to bolster his naturally warped selfishness. He might just as easily been corrupted by some of the venomous distortions from the extreme right, and the result could have been the same. There has been too much poison spread by both kinds of extremists. It is to be hoped that all kinds of them will be shocked into reality by what has happened. Some intellectuals play around with venomous words just to vent their spite, but when such words impinge on certain unstable characters, words aren't enough; the reaction is irrational physical violence. Those who are intelligent enough to draw up the perverted slanders against persons and even against our government, all in the name of patriotism, are smart enough to know how dangerous their game is. But it seems the longer they steep themselves in hate, the less they are able to see the truth. Every citizen must try to break down his prejudices, so the country can follow a steady and reasonable path, -- with malice toward none.
If Mr. Kennedy had been permitted to finish out his term, very likely some real progress might have been made toward a stable world. As it is, these three years will shine like a jewel in our country's history. We will remember a loving family, beautiful, vibrant, young, imaginative and gay, acquainted with trouble but valiant in meeting it, devoted to their country, intensely aware of the great sweep of history, aglow with visions of humanity going forward, in our time, toward a new heaven and a new earth.
Hard and cruel as it is, this tragedy will possibly bring about some good. Perhaps its dramatic intensity will stab us all awake, -- the extremists, the selfish, the indifferent, the thoughtless and all, -- so that we will pull together for a while with more loving-kindness. The new President is a fine and good man, well trained in government, intimate with current affairs, skilled as a conciliator, and above all, greatly enriched in his philosophy of life by his close association with his predecessor.
Maybe some good will come. But for the moment we can only grieve. A rabbi in Chicago used as a text for a eulogy a part of David's lament for his friend Jonathan:
"How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle! Jonathan lies slain upon the high places.
I am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan.
Very pleasant have you been to me; your love to me was wonderful."
In spite of the mourning, our Government will go on. "Let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that can not be shaken." -- Hope.