Another Memory

This "Another Memory", is an email follow-up from Dee that she received from a friend.

Debbie -
The following comes from my dear friend of 39 years, Mary Verni; we were neighbors as young wives and mothers in Utica, N.Y. - Mary's hometown. Now she lives in Massachusetts near Hyannis and is a remarkably fine nurse at the Brigham and Women's Hospital in Boston. I think what she had to say to me this morning is worth your reading. She was younger than me but her experience was a little more personal. I imagine you'll get several different slants from people. We'll see what happens. - Dee


"It was a horrible day that will live in my memory forever. I was 13 when JFK came to Utica to campaign. We were dismissed from De Sales(School) early and ran down to the Memorial Auditorium to see & hear him. I shook his hand and was in awe of this great man that I, too felt would take care of us.

The day he was killed, I was taking a "final" in Anatomy & Physiology. One of the nursing students ran into the classroom, tears streaming down her face and cried out," President Kennedy has been shot!" I finished my test and went to chapel which was filled with students, patients, nurses & doctors. Each taking turns & time to pray. As were the nation, I was glued to the TV for the entire weekend.

When I returned to school, I felt compelled to write to Mrs. Kennedy and I did. I wrote a poem & letter & mailed it to her. She answered my letter and thanked me. I was told it is in the JFK library archives along with thousands of letters the family received.

Ironically, we were in Hyannis the day John Kennedy, Jr.'s plane crashed. We were having dinner at an outside bistro and the silence of the town struck me. You could have have heard a pin drop.

I think of Caroline with her entire family gone. She is becoming more like her mother every day...graceful, shy, mysterious.

Now we are praying for Ted Kennedy for the courage and strength to face his demise. With all of the criticism, this family has given a lot and endured a lot for our country." - Mary M.V.

Here's another memory that was sent to me.

Hi Debbie,
"I've really enjoyed reading your messages about the Kennedys. My parents are probably the biggest Kennedy fans alive. My dad says that the day John F. Kennedy was killed was the saddest day of his life, after the days he lost his parents. I remember many times growing up that he'd talk about that day and get tears in his eyes.

I was born in December 1968, at the end of such a tragic and tumultuous year. My parents supported Robert Kennedy, of course, and were again devastated when he was killed. I've been thinking about that year a lot as I prepare for my 40th birthday. I think that this country has come so far, especially with the election of Barack Obama. I cried on election night as I thought about the people who have gone before us and who have helped make this country so great."

Thanks again.
Take care,
Lisa

November 22nd, 1963

These extraordinary pictures were taken by Hodgepodge reader Dee from Las Cruces, NM and she writes about this day:

The JFK Funeral

November Autumn days in northern Virginia and Washington, D.C. are phenomenally beautiful.The skies are deep, clear blue and the sunshine is intense and soul-raising. Most trees have lost their leaves but there is that last blast of glory which invades the spirit. Such was the day of John Fitzgerald Kennedy’s funeral. It was as though the earth had opened up to send her native son to Heaven where it was certain he would live after such an ending here below. The day of his assassination was rather cloudy and dreary; certainly, as a young teacher in charge of 50 4th graders in Ramsey Elementary School, Alexandria, the last thing on my mind was the amazing horror which would transpire. It was the end of the week; we were finishing up our classwork and all was quiet. I stepped out into the hall for a 5-minute break. My friend Suzanne Flory, speech therapist for the school district, had arrived upstairs from the office and she looked as tho’ someone had smacked her. She quietly said to me, “John Kennedy has been shot and they say he will not live.” That’s all. Nothing more All was quiet and dark. It remained for me to inform the children who indeed thought of Mr. Kennedy and his family as near relations; they saw the Kennedys all the time, watched Caroline riding through the White House grounds on Macaroni, her pony; glued themselves to the television whenever Jackie glided into the situation looking spectacular but most of all, they and indeed all of us young adults, felt that John Kennedy knew US – that he cared about our existence as fellow citizens and human beings. It wasn’t only to do with politics – it had to do with person-to-person. Those of us who lived close to the White House felt that we could visit there and, should he come into the hall or room and speak to us, it would be as a friend welcoming us to his home – not the leader of the free world.

And so….he died. The children’s only response was that we should all be praying for him in case it might help him live. They didn’t really want him to leave us but this was what they could do on the moment to help. Those children are now 53 and 54 years old – I hope they know how impressive they were in their response and how they stood up to this grizzly situation.

We all felt a responsibility to “be there” for him as he made his last journey along the streets of Washington that gloriously sunny Autumn day. There were thousands of people lining the routes his caisson took. We knew it was a never-to-be-repeated moment in history. The most touching things in my own memory were two: the riderless horse with boots backward in the stirrups – a very beautiful black stallion who was the picture of excellence and grandeur representing the fallen leader. And the silence. No audible talking; only the muffled drums of the Scottish and Irish Guards as they accompanied John Kennedy through D.C. It’s very daunting to be part of such an immense crowd when noone is saying anything. Respect; grief; awe – permeating our minds. With all the attention paid to Mr. Kennedy, we can also never forget the immense dignity with which Jacqueline Kennedy accompanied her husband until the very last possible moment. Altho’ just the night before, she had written a quiet midnight note to her God which simply said, “Dear God, please take care of my husband.”, she nonetheless led us all by her example the next day, head up, position and responsibility taken seriously. And then….when all was done, we thought, she went home to give her 3-year-old son a birthday party. There’s only one word for that: guts. Love and prayers to all 5 Kennedys now gone –and to dear Caroline who is the only one left.

(Our thanks to Dee for sharing her rememberances and photos from this most sad day in our nation's history.)