Like many people in the 60s, I grew up fascinated with the Kennedy family. My favorites were John and Bobby. It didn’t hurt that Bobby and I shared his middle name. His name was spelled with an “i” and mine was with an “e.” I was a little poor girl and thought of the Kennedy brothers as my extended family because in spite of their riches, race, and religious difference, they seemed to care. I remember when there was a picture of Jesus, Dr. King, and President Kennedy on the walls of many Black homes. Some homes included the picture of Bobby.
I remember when Bobby visited the ghettos in New York and impoverished Black families in the Mississippi Delta. I remember when they were both failed by assassin’s bullets. Like many other’s I stared absently at the television as the reporters covered the tragedies of those awful days.
When Bobby was campaigning for president in 1968, I was fourteen. His brother Teddy was concerned initially because their brother John was assassinated in 1963. Their father, Joseph, was in declining health and he felt it was his duty to advise his brother. He thought President Johnson would win re-election and Bobby should wait until 1972 when he would be the logical successor.
President Kennedy and his glamourous wife Jackie, and later their children, were frequently on the cover of magazines. Like her husband, Ethel was my favorite Kennedy wife. She was a mother, community worker, campaigner, active, and intelligent woman. In 1963 and 1964, she raised funds to provide jobs for Black teenagers in the ghetto. During the summers when her husband worked, she provided transportation so poor young people could swim in her pool. Later, in 1968, she asked her show biz friends to raise money to build a swimming pool at Junior Village.
I remember with Bobby was active in the civil rights movement. He met with Dr. King and other civil rights leaders on the advancement of rights for Black people. He mingled with mourners at Arlington Cemetery after civil rights activist Medgar Evers was murdered. On April 4, 1968, during a Presidential campaign speed in Indianapolis, Indiana, he told a crowd that Dr. King was assassinated. On June 6, 1968 he was assassinated while he and his wife, Ethel, were campaigning in Los Angeles. I bought a copy of Jet Magazine for 25cents.I still have it locked away with my treasured items.
I lived over a thousand miles away from Brookline, Massachusetts and Cape Cod, but I was determined to visit the area one day. I recall pictures of the Kennedy’s enjoying their summer home in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts. The patriarch, Joseph, and matriarch, Rose, had other summer homes but Hyannis Port was the one I remembered. The large family seemed happy as they went about their day to day activities.
That day came for me in June 2023, 60 years after my childhood wish. A local travel group planned a trip to Cape Cod and Martha’s Vineyard and I jumped at the opportunity. On the day of the trip, my fellow travelers and I strained our eyes to get a glimpse of the beautiful estate we all remembered. We were not able to see anything but were comforted in knowing we were near. After touring the city of Hyannis by foot, we visited the JFK Museum .When I approached the museum, some older Black people were sitting silently on the bench with teary eyes. They had memories of their own stories.
During my tour, I had so many emotions. I snapped picture after picture of what I remembered and information on what I learned. All of a sudden, the sadness overwhelmed me. Even our group was lost in thought and memories and forgot to take a picture in front of the museum.
The next day, we went to beautiful JFK Veterans Memorial Park in Barnstable, MA. We had time to reflect on yesterday’s visit and we took our picture. The first trip was consumed with emotion; therefore, I didn’t see everything. I plan to return to Cape Cod in two months with another group. Maybe I this time, my emotions will be in check.
Francie Mae. July 9, 2023
References
Jet Magazine. Special Report About Tragedy Of Senator Robert Kennedy. June 20, 1968.
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