Over the years we have gotten to see the man behind the winning smile and it wasn't always pretty; the Bay of Pigs, the Mafia, Marilyn Monroe, sex in the White House swimming pool, drug addiction and secrets about his health have all tarnished his image. But we lost more that one flawed human being that sunny morning in Dallas. We lost hope, optimism and courage. The following years are a litany of scandals and setbacks: Vietnam, the assassinations of Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr., Watergate, "Malaise," Iran-Contra, Monica Lewinsky and the definition of "is," 9-11, Iraq, the economic meltdown, deep divisions in our society over religion, race and gender and the specter of terrorism coming to the a school, movie theater or national landmark near you at any time. Sure there were victories. And there have been other leaders who tried their best to lift our spirits. But the truth is that we are a sadder, more cynical and less impressive nation than we were back then.
Now, of course, there is no way to rewind the film, go back to that day, stop the bullets and watch the next act. What's done is done and there is no way to know what would or would not have happened if JFK had survived. The "What ifs" of history are fascinating, but they are simply intellectual masturbation. They do not inform our reality.
So what to take away from this anniversary? Still to this day, despite all the revelations and reality checks, the fond memory of the Kennedy years remains the image of Camelot. It is a vision of our better selves. What we wish we could be. That our leaders did the right things for the right reasons. That idealism is better than cynicism. That it is OK to wave your banner loudly and proudly and declare your vision to the world.
As a child, I loved the movie Camelot and began a life-long crush on Richard Harris. (Probably many more of your remember him as Professor Dumbledore.) I would sing along to the record, especially the title song, pretending to be Guinevere. Just this week I mentioned it when discussing the change in our weather, saying that I wouldn't mind if it rained "after sundown and by nine p.m. the moonlight must appear." Idealism and cynicism are my yin and yang. I struggle to find a place between them that seems logical, but it often slips through my fingers. On this sad day, I choose optimism. As long as we can remember JFK's positive message, there is still hope. This last scene from Camelot always makes me cry. It is a fitting tribute to our fallen President as well.
