Of the three political assassinations in my time that have most appalled me, that of President Kennedy was in some ways the most horrible. Gandhi and Trotsky were old men who had played out their historical roles: India was free, Russia was Communist. They were also disillusioned old men; the communal massacres, the rise of Stalin showed the solutions they had devoted their lives to realizing were at best superficial—'You are late,' were Gandhi's last words, addressed to his murderer. But Kennedy was a young man who had just begun to assume his role on the great stage, whose work was still undone. A handsome, vigorous young man with a great deal of style, married to a woman who went through the days immediately after her widowing with style that approached heroism. The debutante beauty proved to be a Roman matron.
Feature, 1772 words
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