Some men see things as they are and say why by wysiwig
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Description
I dream things that never were and say why not
When I was ten, my father held me on his shoulders above the crowd
To see a train draped in mourning pass slowly through our town
His widow kneeled with all their children at the sacred burial ground
And the TV glowed that long hot summer with all the cities burning down
And the stones in the road flew out beneath our bicycle tires
Worlds removed from all those fires as we raced each other home
...Mary Chapin Carpenter
In July 1990 I took a side trip on the way home from a month in Florida to visit Washington, D.C. for the first time. While there I also visited Robert F. Kennedy for the first time in twenty-two years.
Today would have been his 84th birthday and I firmly believe that he would be looking back on two-terms as president and a world much different than it is today.
June 1968 was an exciting time for me. I had reconnected with my high school girlfriend and finished my second year at a community college. In September I would be going to San Francisco State College to finish my degree in history and in November of that year I would cast my vote for Robert Francis Kennedy for President of the United States. It was a time of unlimited possibilities.
We all knew that, in his early years, he had been no angel but the death of his brother had changed him. He began speaking out for the powerless and against the injustices of the system. He became friends with Martin Luther King and Cesar Chavez and leant his support to their causes. Most of my peers supported Kennedy and we would spend hours discussing politics, going to rallies and campaigning for him. On the day of the California Democratic primary we put in one last effort to get out the vote and then converged on the Ambassador Hotel on Wilshire Boulevard to await the election results. The Embassy Room ballroom was crowded that night and we were somewhere near the middle of the room but the podium was on a raised stage so we could see over the heads of those in front of us. About midnight Bobby came out to speak to us. He had decisively won the California primary. He spoke of the poor and hungry and of changing our course in Vietnam. He finished by saying, "My thanks to all of you and now it's on to Chicago and let's win there." And then he turned and walked off into history.
Some people thought they heard balloons popping, but soon we could hear screams near the front of the room. And then someone called out from the podium for a doctor. Someone near me cried out, "No, not again!" Eventually we were told that he had been taken to the Hospital of the Good Samaritan for surgery. We went to the hospital to join the vigil outside. A local printer distributed bumper stickers that said 'Pray for Bobby.'
He was going to be ok, he was dead, he was still in surgery. It was difficult to get any information. Some of us went home, some huddled on the sidewalk, some tried to sleep. That entire day people kept a vigil outside the hospital hoping for good news but at 1:44 a.m., June 6, Robert Francis Kennedy died.
Later that day, not knowing what else to do, I went down to Kennedy headquarters not far from the Ambassador Hotel. All the lights were off and people were silently standing around. The office manager came up to me and with a sad smile said, "I'm sorry, we're closed."
By the end of that summer I had broken up with my old girlfriend. In September I moved away from home to continue my education in San Francisco. I did not vote that year. My candidate was no longer running.
Comments (17)
Faemike55
Very moving rememberance and picture! Thank you very much for sharing it with us tonight
myrrhluz
Mark, I hardly know what to say. I was twelve years old and barely aware of the momentous events going on across the continent. You have brought this tragic day more intimately into my awareness than it has ever been. I have known facts about what happened, but you gave me feelings of the joyous expectation and crushing loss. Beautifully written. A very sad "What if" of history. Thank you.
durleybeachbum
A superb piece of writing. I now know I never really understood the significance of this event, I believe I was too involved with my studies and raising a son.
vaggabondd
Wow what a powerful story, I have often wondered how the world would be if he hadn't of been killed. I can't help but think it would be so much better. Very nice work my friend
flavia49
great tribute and rememebrance!!
tennesseecowgirl
Very touching work. Have a nice weekend :)
lucindawind
very moving .. fabulous Thank you
hipps13
what life can do change in an instant wonderful work thank you warm hugs, Linda
psyoshida
Mark, you should have second career as a writer. A very moving piece. I remember that time so well, although I was on the East coast, and still in high school. We had so much hope for Bobby, we were sure he would stop the war. I like to believe in John Wheelers idea of parallel alternate universes and there he did go on to win two terms and all lived happily ever after. Beautiful job.
auntietk
Your writing is beautiful. I'd love to see you do more!
sandra46
excellent story, very moving
goodoleboy
Stellar narrative, and brings back memories of that fateful November week.
Tea_Rex
Yeah .. we can always dream. That much is still up to us .. and can never be taken away .. only relinquished. Thanks for sharing, Brother. It still matters. Terry
beachzz
I remember like it was yesterday. You put into words the sadness of that time. Now all we can do is wonder--what if? Beautifully written!!
danapommet
My favorite RFK quote was “All of our problems are manmade – so man should be able to fix those problems”. Or that’s the way I remember it. Wonderful photo and dynamic story. Dana
jo_dis
A moving tribute to an apparently marvelous man.
anahata.c
Some great comments here, recognizing RFK and your writing.
As I'm now used to your writing, there aren't any more surprises at how well, succinctly and emotionally you tell a story. But it's still a surprise, because you speak of deep things, yet with a disarming honesty and unassuming directness that most people don't expect. Momentous yet intimate, how's that. Beautifully written, your specifics are just right, and I was going "wow!" that you were actually there that night (where RFK was shot). I never knew anyone who was actually there. You tell of it simply, yet with total commitment; I didn't expect that. Very moving, and your conclusion---of going to the closed headquarters, breaking up with your girlfriend, not voting, etc---was simple and poignant. Simple and beautiful, M. And it feels complete.
Yeah, RFK was one tough personality, and could be a real bastard. We all felt he had the right, considering who he was attacking; but I was too inexperienced to realize that he was also 'too much', went too far with some very dangerous people, and he was so protective of his views (and his brother) that he marred some of the paths to those views. But I never thought about how he changed after JFK's death: Just thought of that now. It really did make him more humanized, more full. He would've been a great president, I agree, and his loss was big. (Did I vote that year? McCarthy? Has it been that long that I don't remember who ran with RFK? Humphrey ran in the general, right? You know, then I hated Humphrey because he conciliated, and so many of us thought he sold out. But now? Ay ay ay, what I would do for a Hubert Humphrey in the White House now. (Well, Bozo the Clown would be better than what we have now...) (Better hair too...) Part of Humphrey's "selling out" was his ability to work with everyone, and get things done. Anyway, a touching succinct memory of an amazing person and time. You're so good at these memoirs. Terrific upload, Mark.