Letters to Jackie (29 page)

WEST HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT

JANUARY 11, 1964

Dear Mrs. Kennedy:

On the day of President Kennedy’s tragic and unnecessary death, my small son and I were at my mother’s as usual for Friday night dinner. I was reading a book when my step-father called and told us the
shocking news. Neither my mother or I said anything, we just cried. Later when my husband came home he didn’t say anything, but you could see how terribly upset he was. He just looked at us and said he wasn’t hungry. We didn’t eat much that night or for the next few awful days.

After supper we went grocery shopping, with my mother as usual baby sitting for us. The few people in the store did not speak, but when your eyes met theirs you knew how they felt and what they were feeling for you too felt the same way.

After we had arrived home and John was in bed and the food put away, we turned on out television set and sat there and watched, but we still did not speak.

I then looked away from the set and the wall of our den caught my eye, no not the wall, but on an 12 1/2 X 15 1/2 piece of paper framed with a black rim. As I read this to myself I cried silently. It reads:

In grateful memory of Private Julius B. Adler A. S. No. 34570089 who died in the Service of his country in the Southwest Pacific Area August 22, 1943.

He stands in the unbroken line of patriots who have dared to die that freedom might live, and grow, and increase its Blessings. Freedom lives, and through it, he lives—in a way that humbles the undertakings of most men.

Franklin D. Roosevelt

My father had given his life for his country as did President Kennedy. As I read it over and over I also said the name of President Kennedy in place of that of my dad’s. How well he fits these words.

You have a flag with fifty stars on it; I have one with forty-eight.

I never knew my dad but I am proud of him; just as proud as you are of our late President.

My husband and I are 24 and President Kennedy meant something special to us. He was young like we are, and he understood us. He was someone we looked up to and admired, an idol, someone to pattern our
selves after in his love of country and fellow man. We will truly miss him as will the rest of the people here and abroad.

Please excuse the length of this letter but it is a rather difficult one for me to write as I have a hard time expressing my feelings, especially when it comes to my father.

I guess all I am trying to say is how awful I feel about what has happened and how my father and our late President had just a few things in common: They were loved, husbands, fathers, sons, and above all, they gave their most precious belonging for their country: their lives.

May God be with you and your family.

Sincerely,
Mrs. Donald S. Cohan

MENLO PARK, CALIFORNIA
NOVEMBER 30, 1963

Dear Mrs. Kennedy:

Like millions of our fellow citizens my family and I wish to express our deep sorrow and grief which you must feel at this time. I first wanted to wait a little longer in order to avoid an over-emotional outpour. You have shown so excellently how one can control ones emotion, therefore I shall try the same.

First of all, Mrs. Kennedy, let me assure you that all four of us share your grief, your pain, and your sorrow. We feel the late President has been very close to us, and our distress could not have been greater than if a member [of] our own family would have gone. Of course we cannot compare our grief to yours because grief cannot be compared.

My wife Pauline and I are foreign born. Both our children were born in California. Katherine is almost 17 and Douglas is 9. Pauline and I came from Austria some 23 years ago.

Just before Austria lost her independence to Mr. Hitler, I was taken
by the invading Nazis to Dachau and later to Buchenwald. I spent two years there in misery. Released in February, 1940 from Buchenwald, I went to Sweden and early in 1941 arrived finally in the United States. Almost immediately I volunteered for service in the Army but was rejected because of lack of citizenship. Soon thereafter the law was changed and I became subject to the draft. Trained to become an interrogater of P. O. W.s I spent much of my overseas time in Military Government work with Infantery Division. After 22 months overseas and after experiencing the end of the war in Europe, I returned in 1945 to San Francisco. During my time overseas I had the rare opportunity to revisit the two places of my confinment and even could participate in the liberation of Buchenwald. I even had the great joy of finding there some of my friends alive and well.

The reason for telling you all this, Mrs. Kennedy, is to prove to you that death is not new to me, that suffering is an old acquaintance. I have seen many a good friend die, and many of them tortured and abused. I myself have suffered from the cruel hands of men and I like to think of myself as an unemotional man. Yet once, and only once did I ever weep for a dead friend, and that was in 1940 when I learned that one of my friends, by the name of Rudi, had been murdered by the Nazis.

I wept, not because he was my friend; I saw many a friend die. I did not weep because he was of my political or religious belief: he was not. I did not weep because he was young (27 years): I saw many die much younger than he. I wept because I knew he was irreplaceable. I knew he was needed. I scand in my mind all those I left behind and I could not see a single one as strong, as couragous, as wise and as good as he was, who could help those who needed him. That is why I wept in June, 1940 in Vienna when the Nazis murdered Rudi, the best of them all, the only one who could, at that time, lead those desperate, persecuted and troubled men.

That, Mrs. Kennedy, is precisely the reason why I am weeping now. Again a man has been taken away from us who was good, wise, noble,
and kind; one who has been our hope in a desperate situation, who has shown us the way; a man who has been harrassed and yet could smile and find good things to say for his adversaries.

Words are cheap, Mrs. Kennedy, but how else can we tell you how sorry we are, how great our pain is? Only words—for the moment at least—can express our sympathy for you and your children and how sorry we are for our own sake. Yes, for our own sake. Where in all this great and mighty country is the one who could replace this man? A great leader, the greatest of them all, has left us. One who, only once in a hundred years, seems to appear among us. He gave us strength and confidence and again a trust in the future. He showed the way and the world will never be quite the same. He left his indelible mark on all of us.

You are a great lady, Mrs. Kennedy, and you put us all to shame when you showed us what courage means. But after all you have been so fortunate to have had this splendid man ten years at your side. We only had him three. All we asked was for five more years; but Providence did not grant it to us. And yet we consider ourselves fortunate that this “good man, this honest man, this kindly man” was our contemporary. He touched us only such a short time but we have already changed.

Please, Mrs. Kennedy, do include us in your grief and your sorrow. We have lost the greatest man among us as you have lost the finest husband and your children the best father.

With our kindest regards to you and your children we wish that you may have strength and hope for the future. May God be with you and yours.

Pauline Ernst
Katherine Ernst
William Ernst
Douglas Ernst

DETROIT, MICH.

APRIL 29-1964.

Dear Mrs. Jacqueline Kennedy,

I am one of those persons who lost my entire family in a very cruel way during world war two, in Europe. I thought that nothing in this world could hurt me any more, but how mistaken I was! My heart still cries out for our beloved President.

Will you please accept my deepest sympathy.

Sincerely yours
Mrs. Jean Schechter

STERLING, ILLINOIS

Dear Mrs. Kennedy,

This letter should be on parchment for you. But I am a plain midwestern boy and perhaps you can draw more from this simple correspondence.

I had only one contact with your husband, but even if history had not focused on him as much as it did, I would have always felt that special spot in my heart for Jack and you. I suppose it is the same “hero worship” he felt in his early life.

Endless words have gone out in his favor, but perhaps the most I could write to you is my description of the way I knew him best.

I was attending the University of Illinois when Jack campaigned in 1960. I remember all the talk about his religion and his family’s wealth. But I never figured religion entered the picture. And my mother said here is a man they won’t “buy off.”

When Jack came to Champaign, Illinois for a campaign speech, I as so many Americans realized we were for this man. Jack stirred me with what he said along with everything else he said later on. When Jack finished and drove to the airport I chased his car six blocks just to shake his hand and wish him well, and you know even though I was the last well wisher running at full speed he sincerely thanked me.

I was in the army during your husband’s term and so he has been my President and my Commander in Chief.

My father was killed in action in the Battle of the Bulge during the second world war. My mother and I received a parchment from John F. Kennedy honoring his (my father’s) service to his country. My family will always treasure that parchment and we will always hallow this memory of John F. Kennedy. Now this is our way of thanking his family for his service to his country. For the Lord must have surely had a twinkle in his eye when John F. Kennedy came to this earth.

There will be much said about this man and many ways of honoring him. But you are his greatest monument; You and Caroline and John Jr.
You have given us all courage, may God bless you and keep watch on you.

My fondest wish is that I might be able to meet you some day.

Sincerely yours,
Leonard L. Link Jr.

4.12.63
SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA

DEAR MRS. KENNEDY

“WE ARE HEALED OF A SUFFERING ONLY BY EXPERIENCING IT TO THE FULL.”

I, TOO, WITNESSED A TRAGEDY. MY LITTLE GIRL DROWNED.

“IT REQUIRES MORE COURAGE TO SUFFER THAN TO DIE.”

NORBERT A. HOERL