From USA Today:
"Americans remember RFK's death: 'I collapsed and began howling'"
The June 5, 1968 assassination of Robert F. Kennedy, like that of his older brother five years earlier, remains etched in the memory of millions of Americans 50 years later. Here are some recollections:
I was nearly 22 and ending my U.S. Army tour of duty as a sergeant in Cam Ranh Bay, Vietnam, when the assassination occurred. As in the Robin Williams’ movie, Good Morning, Vietnam, news of his death was censored from American troops. I did not actually learn of RFK’s death until six weeks later, when I arrived home in South Carolina, where my father was on active duty at Fort Jackson. RFK’s death was the same day as my younger sister’s 13th birthday, certainly an unlucky number. My wife, Jan, was a student at Baylor University then and she recalls RFK’s “Stay calm and peaceful” speech when he received word of the death of Martin Luther King, Jr. From 1963 to 1968, Jan and I lived through five horrific assassinations of political and civil rights leaders (Medgar Evers, John Kennedy, Malcolm X, King and Robert Kennedy). —Thomas Grezaffi, Tallahassee, Fla.
I was 37, married with two children and working at Vassar Brothers Hospital in Poughkeepsie, N.Y. My father and brother had met RFK on a train headed for West Virginia during his campaign, and they were impressed by his intelligence and sincerity. I wished he had chosen not to run: the tragic assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., just two months earlier, had stoked the burning embers of “Assassination in America”. I felt RFK was foolishly putting himself and his large Catholic family in extreme jeopardy. Even America’s foremost psychic at the time, Jeanne Dixon, had forecast doom for him. When the haunting premonitions became a reality, the TV news seemed like surreal paintings. It was beyond belief that a second Kennedy son had become another political fatality. — Vivian Porter Hutto, Orangeburg, S. Car.
As a Test Pilot for Boeing Aircraft in 1968, I had arrived at work around 4 a.m., when my team and I were greeted immediately with the tragic news, causing our workday to start off very poorly. I was 35 at the time and remember being very impressed with the work Robert had accomplished as JFK's attorney general. I most likely would have voted for him, but his campaign had been born in the dark shadows of his dead brother. A second Kennedy assassination seemed almost inevitable due to America's hate-filled political climate in 1968. — A.J. Hutto, Orangeburg, S.Car.
I had begun my nursing career in obstetrics at Mt. Sinai Hospital in Manhattan, and was returning to Kentucky for a family visit. My good friend Millicent, a student at the University of Louisville, was overcome with anger and grief. “I knew this was going to happen. I knew it!” she kept repeating. During our visit, we worked at the Belknap Theater building sets and creating costumes for an upcoming student production. This became very good therapy after another Kennedy trauma had turned most Americans into virtual zombies. As young adults, 21, we were forced to process death, which seemed everywhere and never-ending. We had been raised as idealistic kids who grew up in the placid 50s and early 60s. We were emotionally unprepared for mayhem and murder, especially of our national leaders. RFK’s death in 1968 became the finale for a nascent distrust by our Boomer Generation in the power structure of traditional America. The end of Don McLean’s song, American Pie, “the day the music died,” said it all. — Judith Berg, Elizabeth, Ind.
RFK’s death dominated the news the same weekend as our 50th anniversary party for my husband’s parents in Oaks, Oklahoma. Friends and family had all gathered to celebrate, and we were all hovering around the TV. We soon realized that the funeral coverage was creating an emotional battle between depressing and happy thoughts. Finally, one person insisted that we turn off the TV, which we did. The party was celebrated as a joyous and memorable event despite one more American tragedy. — Lynne Vammen, Texarkana, Tex.
I was, 21, had just finished my junior Year at Brescia University in Owensboro, Ky., and was packing to return to my home in Louisville. As the radio announcer relayed the grim details of RFK’s death, I collapsed on my bed and began a howling cry with fists pounding into the bedding. What worsened my rage was an impromptu meeting with RFK and his pregnant wife, Ethel, six weeks earlier when they visited my college. As I shook his hand and looked into his pale blue eyes, I wanted to shout: “Why are you risking everything to become America’s next President?” As I finished my homeward-bound packing, all I could think was, “Who in their right mind would ever choose American politics as a suicidal, thankless, and heart-breaking career?” — Marilyn Hankins, Orlando, Fla.
As a diehard Republican, I had paid little attention to any Democratic candidates since becoming a registered voter. At age 32, my voting was typically “elephantine,” and when I heard that RFK was actually campaigning for the presidency, my thoughts were totally negative: “The Kennedys have lost and paid so much.” In my mind, RFK’s death simply worsened a long family history of pain and suffering. — Gerry Adams, Deland, Fla.
^ I remember when I was younger and my Great-Aunt showed me a picture of RFK during one of his visits around the US (not sure if it was when he was campaigning for the Presidency or not.) She said that he was very popular nearly every place he went and was a mix of a rock star and a politician - at a time that the two were usually separate. I have seen many documentaries throughout the years on RFK and what he stood for and think that I would probably have voted for him if he had lived and if I had been able to back then. ^
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