JFK, Camelot and my brief, crazy fling with Jacquelyn
Posted: Saturday, November 20, 2010
by John Brazell
November 23, 1963, the day the music died . . .
I was an integral part of the mythical "Camelot." Guinevere sat comfortably next to Lancelot in the top-down-limo fifteen-feet away. She smiled, waved at me and gently brushed back wisps of her raven hair. Not in a million years could anyone predict what happened.
My work was near the heart of downtown Dallas in Southland Center -- 42 stories of shimmering glass, blue granite and pride -- the tallest building west of the Mississippi . From the observation deck and heliport you could see forever. On this day we chose ground level, or destiny chose us, to view the presidential motorcade scheduled not more than two blocks away.
The streets stood four, six, ten deep in all manner of humanity there to catch a glimpse and feel the pulse of one of the most popular Presidents in American history, John F. Kennedy and his stunning and accomplished wife, Jacquelyn. "Jackie" as she had come to be.
Not everyone agreed with his politics but everyone agreed he had "gravitas", impeccable political breeding and eye-catching appeal. With his polished good looks, charm and war hero persona, he was almost too "perfect" even for a proud and demanding America . He was the knight in shinning armor in Uncle Sam's court, though he had only ridden the charging white steed less than three years.
In an ideal world, it should have been only world issues and support for the president that drew me and a handful of young male coworkers into the street that day. As shallow as it seems, it was Jackie that provided the stronger impetus to elbow our way to the front of the motorcade crowd. It was worth the stares of the spectators and steely-eyed motorcycled escorts to get a closer look. She was everything the media had declared her to be.
Indeed, just viewing the first couple evoked confidence and pride. Together they represented a new start on a planet of wars, threats and homeland strife. They were fresh, clean and regal. They were young, beautiful and capable. We were willing subjects in their perfect kingdom, the new Camelot.
I reveled in the moment then watched the young Leader of the Free World and his striking First Lady slowly disappear from view. The memories of my very brief interactive encounter with America 's royalty would last forever.
Their "Forever" in a twisted hyperbolic sense was only fifteen more minutes.
Still sporting the afterglow, my working buddies and I ambled back to our mundane world of back-room commerce. We couldn't stop talking about our up-close and personal view of an historic event. "Where but in America can the most powerful person in the world interact with people on the streets and not be afraid?"
Even before we arrived in the Data Center next to the monolithic IBM computer, the pulse of the company operations, I knew something was terribly wrong. There was one radio, then two, then more all barking the same startling message, "The President and Governor Connally have been shot." I couldn't believe my ears.
Word passed at a million times the speed of sound carrying with it disbelief. "It was a bad joke, a bad dream. It was an error, a case of mistaken identity, a lie. This couldn't happen in America . A little more time to sort things out and it will be okay." But it wasn't.
A pall of pandemic proportions gripped America , the world.
There followed an irrational increase in gun sales, door locks and personal protection devices. A common thief had entered our lives through an open front door and stole the heart and soul of America . It was not only a Kennedy family loss -- it was my loss, your loss, the world's loss. Only time could heal the wounds.
Though I was already a young man out of business school and into a career, it wasn't until that fateful day forty-seven years ago, when, in a manner of speaking, I came to understand Reality.
Post Log:
I was dismayed when five-years later Jackie married un-pretty, filthy-rich Ari Onassis, who was a head shorter and twenty-three years her senior. She had to know how I felt.
It had all the ear-markings of, you know, money, shipping money. But since I had already settled into the reality mode, I accepted that sometimes love is old, blind, and crippled, but almost always has money. So it goes.
(now you can smile)
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Top-level comments on this article: (1 total)I went to a Marymount school, run by American nuns, in a small town in Zimbabwe, and I so clearly remember the day we got the news. Everybody was completely stunned. I was pretty young and knew nothing about politics, but I felt the weight of what had happened.As for Jackie marrying Onassis, eugh. She probably pined for you, then thought that you had forgotten her. Buried her unrequited love in Onassis's bank account.Jennifer, it was a moment those of us old enough to remember will never forget. Stunned is the right word. "Buried her unrequited love in Onassis's bank account" a terrific line. Thanks for dropping by.
JB
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