Friday, November 22, 2013

Dallas and JFK – 50 years later

Dallas, Texas
November 22, 2013

Unlike the scene 50 years ago, when it was bright and brisk and shiny, the scene was dark, windy and cold, with flashes of lightening threatening to spill buckets of water. For 50 years, Dallas and the world have cried rivers of tears over those fateful seconds when a deranged soul let his rage boil over onto Elm Street.

Here in Dallas we have been going over it countless times. What kind of city are we? What kind of people are we? What kind of country are we? For 50 years. One probably doesn’t feel it as intensely as we do here at the epicenter. Our lives changed forever. His life ended.

In 1978, fifteen years after that fateful day, I had my fateful day, the one which took me to Dallas. I was starting a new life, an uncertain life, but a move forward. I was 27 and a young father with a two year old. I had no job, no money and really no clue what I was going to do. And I was moving to a town the rest of the country hated, or so it seemed.

I had family here. Unemployment was low. An eastern spiritual person told me Dallas was one of the chakras for planet earth. She told me there was good energy flowing from the town. How could that be, I thought to myself. How could the town that killed JFK be a spiritual center for terra madre?

The reality, like now, is that he was killed by the hatred of one person, not thousands. His killer was angry, sick, bitter and deluded. He didn’t know about the chakras. He only knew one thing, and that was rage. But he was also killed and so Dallas became the scapegoat.

Dallas has lived for half a century with the shadow. Meanwhile the world has moved on. It’s time for Dallas to do so as well.

In a few hours several thousand of us will convene by the site for a commemoration of that fateful day. It will be cold and windy with a 70% chance of showers. There will be no sun shining on this day.

Nor will there be any shadows. Just the road forward.

written and photographed (at Dealey Plaza) by Alfonso Cevola limited rights reserved On the Wine Trail in Italy
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Marco Mondegreen said...

I remember that Thanksgiving 1963 wasn't very festive. Weeks later though, I recall bringing a 45 rpm of The Beatles' "She Loves You" to the Saturday night YMCA dance in Westerly RI. When the DJ played it, all the girls screamed. Thank God for the Beatles.

Alfonso Cevola said...

Amen.... said...

That day changed our lives and the way we live forever. Just as 9-11 changed them yet again. It is still so unbelievable to me. It was in a climate of unrest and hatred maybe less obvious to us at the time, as it later became. I was a young mother, looking toward the future and wondering if bringing children into the world was a good idea. I remember that day so well. Nonna and Noona had just arrived at my house. Their weekly trek to see their great grandchildren and bring us hot bread from the bakery. They took a very long time to get out of the car and when they approached the house, they were both crying. I immediately became alarmed that something horrible had happened. It had. We spent the morning glued to the television , clutching the babies close to us. As the tragedy unfolded, the next four days became frozen in time. Traffic in busy Southern California became non existent Almost all businesses shut down. The streets were empty. I had never witnessed that kind of grief It was all consuming and fragments of it still linger today. I believe that everything happens for a reason. Someone said, that JFK had to die in order for Civil Rights to live.Time will tell!

Marco Mennagia said...

Lest I forget the early Stones sides too.

Marco Rosso Malpelo said...

They call it the baby boomer grief boner. They being those who don't remember it or were not of age to experience those days. Lest we "forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you" of mercurial Dylan's "Bringing It All Back Home"

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