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Authors: Ellen Fitzpatrick

Letters to Jackie (23 page)

BOOK: Letters to Jackie
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BETHESDA, MARYLAND
NOV. 23, 1963

Dear Mrs. Kennedy,

I am not a writer of letters to anyone. I am a scientist, a physicist, older than you and younger than Jack Kennedy (which is how he was called in my thoughts although we never met). Born into a depression, trained into a terrible war, and made cynical by the cold war abroad and a McCarthy at home—I found for the first time, in Jack Kennedy, a man to believe in.

As a very minor worker in the government, as a member of scientific advisory panels, for once I felt there was something to work for—and someone to lead whom I could trust and respect. May I presume to offer my personal sympathies, and to assure you that there are many of us all over this country who hope that in some small way we can carry on the work he started. I, for one, intend to try.

To make up for the words I cannot write, may I share with you the
words of Stephen Spender that have run through my head for the last two days:

“I think continually of those who were truly great….

The names of those who in their lives fought for life

Who wore in their hearts the fire’s center.

Born of the sun they travelled a short while toward the sun,

And left the vivid air signed with their honor.”

Sadly,
John Steinhart

ROCHESTER, NEW YORK

DECEMBER 4, 1963

Dear Mrs. Kennedy,

We were graduated from Rutgers University in 1959, a year that CBS Television chose to make a documentary at Rutgers about college students—called “Generation Without A Cause”. That title was apt. We knew what was right and what we believed in, but we had no one rallying point, and no leader to put our convictions into words.

And then John Kennedy ran for the Presidency of the United States. What a difference it made to all of us!

When the Berlin crisis erupted, my husband was at summer camp with the New Jersey National Guard. I was very afraid that he would be shipped overseas before I could see him again; yet, mentally, I was attending to details and girding myself for the strength I knew I would need. The President was a mainstay of that strength. He told us that the country needed those men, and that everyone would have to sacrifice, and so we were ready to do so.

As his term progressed, problem after problem came up and was met head-on—civil rights, and Cuba—even though we didn’t talk about him as much, we knew he was there, and we believed in him. He embodied everything we could have asked for in a President.

Today, words are inadequate to express the loss we feel. That awful Friday night, when we were talked out, and drained, and trying to sleep, John said only “Our brave young leader is dead”. But even though the enthusiasm and fervor the President inspired in us will never be quite the same, the dedication he inspired will. And your great strength has been an example to us.

We just wanted you to know how much we loved him.

Sincerely,
Lynne and John Clarke
(Mr. and Mrs. John W. Clarke)

[JANUARY 1964 POSTMARK]
PHILADELPHIA, PA

Dear Mrs. Kennedy,

I hesitated in writing this because I felt that any words I could express would be meaningless. But then I remembered something that might express what I haven’t before been able to say.

In 1960 I was in my second year of high school. Politics never interested me but, the then, Sen. Kennedy aroused my curiosity. His straightforward manner made me sit up and take notice. I found myself reading his biography and his books. I also began to read sections of the morning paper which I never even glanced at before. By the fall of 1960 I knew a good bit about the election issues and found myself arguing things like: Quemoy and Matsu and tax cuts and other things. I must admit, I managed to swing a few votes over to the Kennedy platform. The only reason being the fact that I always made sure my opponents didn’t know a thing about why they were voting for whom they were voting. Anyway, to get to the point, Sen. Kennedy’s personality acted like a much needed and awaited booster shot to me. And as we saw, later, he acted as a booster for our whole country. Without even realizing it, my marks began to improve and by November, I was on the honor roll.

I’ve never told anyone this before. My parents could never understand my new-found energy. I never told them because I felt it to be a personal thing between the President and myself. Later he inspired all the youth of this country that way. He was the right man at the right time.

I’ve saved all the papers with the stories of that day. Perhaps, for my children so that I can show them the headlines of the end of a good thing…a good thing that isn’t to be forgotten. Perhaps I shall say to them the lines of a song which you mentioned, only adding a few lines more: “Each evening from Dec. to Dec. before you drift to sleep upon your cot think back on all the tales that you remember of Camelot.”

I know that song well. I always became sad at the end but could never fully understand why. Now, after seeing a man who held the dreams of Arthur and the hopes, I now know why I grew sad.

I hope you know what I’m talking about. In Life you quoted another line from the song. I hope you did. If not you probably don’t understand a word of this. Everything was just so confused in those few days that perhaps the magazine was wrong.

I’ll close with one last thing.

In late October of 1960 Sen. Kennedy came to Philadelphia and was to come down a street near me but because of an arm injury while shaking hands, he was unable to drive by his planned route. I remember standing for three bitter cold hours and never even caught a glimpse of my beloved candidate. And then, remember standing, on October 31st in the cold waiting for a glimpse of a President, a great President. That day, my dormant wish of almost exactly three years came true. I saw a slender, magnanimous man emerge from a blue convertible before entering the Bellevue-Stratford Hotel. The glimpse lasted a few seconds—the impression will last a lifetime. As will the love this country had for him. It will last more than a lifetime, for his story is an American Heritage to be passed down from generation to generation.

There is nothing more for me to say. You’ve received letters of sympathy from all over the world, with their grammar more eloquent, and the
writing much neater. But, believe me Mrs Kennedy, the thoughts could not be more sincere.

I’ll miss him so, We all will,

Sincerely
Janis M. Lockeby

ST. OLAF COLLEGE

NORTHFIELD, MINNESOTA

NOVEMBER 26, 1963

Dear Mrs. Kennedy and the Kennedy family,

In your moment of supreme sorrow, I would like to express my sincere sympathy and, unofficially, that of the students of St. Olaf. Just as the tragic news reverberated around the world, it sharply penetrated into the indifference and apathy so often found on college campuses. For most of us, the news of President Kennedy’s death was a personal tragedy, one that shook us to the very roots of our being. As the campus community gathered in the Chapel on Friday night to pray for comfort for your family, for our own sustenance, and for strength to face the uncertain future, we found some consolation in the beautiful poetry of the one hundred and twenty-first psalm “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.”

I only saw the President once—as he descended from his airplane in Rockford, Illinois, during the 1960 campaign. But even though I had only this brief personal contact, his assassination destroyed part of me as well as part of most of us. I suppose we, as students, identified ourselves with the exuberance, the love of living, the ambition, the liberal philosophy, and the belief in the goodness of mankind of our youngest chief executive. We were born during the war that tempered your generation, grew up during the harsh and bitter peace of the bipolar Cold War, and still have not achieved full maturity. We identified ourselves
with President Kennedy because his ideals are ours, and we admired the man who displayed so much courage, conviction, and faith in man. Our idealism has once again been shattered in the face of human depravity, and it has left an emptiness which will not soon diminish. But we have also been left with an inspiration in the life of your husband, father, brother, and son.

This probably sounds insincere or eulogistic, but this letter is not meant to be so. Through this tragedy we as students, may have found what we are forever searching—direction for our lives. We hope that President Kennedy’s faith in America will be justified in the future, and that, eventually, it will be our generation that upholds this trust without flinching. In his death he became a martyr for the cause of peace, justice, freedom and brotherhood. May God bless you all.

Sincerely yours,
Gretchen Lundstrom

POMPANO BEACH FLA
DEC. 11TH 1963

Dear Mrs. Kennedy

I hope this will be a little different than the many letters you are receiving. If it does not get to you through your screening committee at least I’ve tried. Had your husband lived I could have someday gotten this message to him. I feel I should try now with you.

I thought often of sending my story to the Readers Digest or its like. I think it’s a story of an unforgettable character. Here goes

I am a father of 3 girls—now adult. The first two, lovely girls, pretty well got through the morass of this modern freedom unscathed. They were, all through school honor students leaders in activities, in short good at everything.

Then the youngest. She was shy, gauche and as she grew became more withdrawn. My wife and I knew that at every turn, She was meeting tales
of the ability of her older sisters. In spite of our efforts to establish her as an individual, She with drew more and more. She was talented in many ways different from her older sisters but in off beat things. Since She was in parochial school, the good nuns were always telling her of her older sisters’ accomplishments. Seldom did she speak to me, other than routine.

Suddenly, She started to become interested in current events. She would take me aside and tell me of my responsibilities as a citizen. I encouraged her, but since our family always voted, and carefully, I did not pay too much attention. But, She kept after me—then my wife & then our neighbors.

I started to get requests from this child for books, magazines, etc. Naturally, we encouraged her. Then she started to buttonhole my friends and spoke to them of their duties to country. I got interested and questioned her.

It seems her interest was centered in a Young Congressman I read some of her stuff & I got interested.

I’ll never forget the convention at which John F. Kennedy almost became Vice President. I have never seen eye to eye with Adlai Stevenson or in fact any of the Harvard ilk like Alger Hiss et al. But the daughter kept pressing. When he was finally defeated, a dark pall came on our daughter.

Meanwhile, our older daughters and our friends noticed the change in our youngest. We all encouraged her, but She now became disheartened. Then, She found He was going to run for President. She started to campaign for Mr. Kennedy, even tho’ still too young to vote.

Well the campaign your husband waged, his election and the end are now history. The daughter was truly a part of all of it.

During your husbands administration we, now transferred from Pennsylvania to Florida, received a day by day account of the President’s activity. Even during the Cuban crisis, we in Florida, were, understandably worried. She staunchly insisted the Presidents way was right.

In closing, this girl, through her study of Jack Kennedy, all through his career, became mature, alive, tremendously informed of her heritage. She gained courage to the extent that she is now away from home—on her own, working at Atlanta, Georgia, and doing well.

We know, by her letters that she prays for him daily. We also know that John F. Kennedy was heard at Inaugural by one person at least “What will you do for your country.”

[This requires no answer]

Respectfully
Henry H. Delaney

USNH BEAUFORT, S. C.

23, NOV 1963

Dear Mrs. Kennedy,

I’m a young Marine recently injured in training and now I’m in the hospital. I hope you’ll read this, it will take alot off my chest because I have a guilt that I must confess. Your husband meant something to me even though I didn’t realize it until his death.

I remember in my last year of high school how disappointed I was that the President had not taken action on Cuba—then he did just that. I had many an arguement in my classes about the topic and lost alot of friends. I disliked him because he took so long to act. Then trouble erupted when he took action. Ma’me he made a fool of me when I heard how he had such heated debates with officials and still kept them as friends. I pray to God that some day I’ll be able to do the same.

I really don’t know why I’m writing, but I was reading the Bible and it was as if God had spoken to me. You see my Mother passed away a few years ago and it brought me closer to God and as I was reading in the Bible tonight I came apond this verse from Luke 12:4-8 “I tell you, my friends, do not fear those who kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do. But I will warn you whom to fear: fear him who, after he has killed, has power to cast into hell; yes, I tell you, fear him! Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are more value than many sparrows.”

Mrs. Kennedy your husband was a great man and his words were first with me when I was in boot camp. I came into the service hoping to do my part and that’s when I found those enspiring words over our squad bay hatch” Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country”. These words are over every squad-bay hatch on Parris Island.

When I saw your husband portrayed in “PT 109” I couldn’t help but like him

Mrs. Kennedy I’m praying for you and our family. I hope you’ll forgive me, all Marines aren’t bad, please forgive me.

God Bless you and Mr. President,

Sincerely,
Pvt. Robert W. Zemeski

BOOK: Letters to Jackie
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